


Of Werewolves & Humans

by BruisedBloodyBroken



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Hurt Sam, M/M, Other, Protective Dean, Unrelated Winchesters (Supernatural), graphic content, lovestory, unrelated wincest, werewoves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-01
Updated: 2015-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 16:34:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 104,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29138634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BruisedBloodyBroken/pseuds/BruisedBloodyBroken
Summary: AU, UNRELATED!WINCEST, Dean30, Sam26, Sioux Falls, South Dakota. Werewolves that live among humans and the bigger part of the town knows. In return, the pack hunts creatures that dare to violate the peace in town. Then a new club opens, people die, and dean finds a human he'd die for. werewolf!dean!john!bobby!ellen human!hurt!sam sam/dean
Relationships: Sam Winchester/Dean Winchester, Sam/Dean
Kudos: 115





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> first posted on fanfictionDOTnet a couple of years ago ...

_There we go with a new story :)_

_I'm setting the scene with the prologue like always_

_just for the record: i had to read some stuff about werewolves (besides the common lore about them) & decided that there won't be any knotting, further i changed the lore about werewolves for my story. - well i guess i changed close to EVERYTHING and made 2 different breeds (the once that are natural ones and the turned once.)_

_I HAVE NO IDEA WHERE THIS STORY IS GOING TO LEAD ..._

* * *

**WARNINGS** _: UNRELATED!WINCEST, AU, rated M for a reason, mentions of abuse/rape_

**DISCLAIMER** _: not mine (just playing in kripke's sandbox)_

**SUMMARY** _: AU, UNRELATED!WINCEST, Dean30, Sam26, Sioux Falls, South Dakota. Werewolves that live among humans and the bigger part of the town knows. In return, the pack hunts creatures that dare to violate the peace in town. Then a new club opens, and dean finds a human he'd die for. werewolf!dean!john!bobby!ellen human!hurt!sam sam/dean_

* * *

** Of Werewolves And Humans **

** Chapter 1 ~ Behind the Scenes **

Dean Winchester leaned back in the passenger's seat of the sleek-black Impala and slammed the passenger's door shut. His father followed short after him and slipped behind the steering wheel, while Bobby Singer took his place on the backseat.

It had been an eventful year for all of them. While Bobby Singer had his Salvage on the outskirts of the small town and had lived there ever since, John and Dean just moved there a couple of years ago. They had a cabin in the woods on the northern side of the town, not too far away from the Salvage. After years of traveling and strolling around they had decided to find a place to settle down.

Not just because of the older man's injured leg, that hurt like a pain in the ass sometimes. Also because they were willing to go where Sheriff Jody Mills wasn't able to. Further, most of the town's people knew about the Winchesters already. They knew who they were and why they were there. They knew that they had never killed anything close to human. That they were feeding of deer and cattle. And they let them. Let them unbothered. They let them hunt on their grounds in the woods or even their cattle when nothing else was to be found. No one seemed bothered about two or three poached animals a month.

And those who had seemed bothered by it in one of their councils were pretty fast convinced that it was good to have a pack of werewolves around, as a couple of vampires had caused trouble.

In return for the town's people's acceptance, the Winchester's and Bobby kept the town safe. Safe from everything that was supernatural out there. Every creature that would make trouble or harm the town's people was damned to death as soon as it trod the town's property.

That was their unwritten pact.

Dean cleared his throat and stole a glance at John. "That's not just because it's my birthday, isn't it?", he finally asked the question he wanted to ever since John had decided to make his son happy and take him to the new club in town.

John sniffed and his eyes narrowed as he keyed the ignition. "Not exactly. - Sheriff Mills got a job for us."

"In the club?", Dean asked and frowned. "Is it about the odd killings?"

The older Winchester nodded.

"Seems to me like a sick human who loves to torture his own kind. - So how could this probably be a thing for us?" Dean glanced at his father and shot a glare into the rearview mirror to check on the old man's face on the backseat. Dean was already pissed. - Though he had already sensed, that John wouldn't take him to the club just because it was his birthday. His father didn't do things like this. Of course he made sure that there was cake (even when Dean was already 30 there was still cake in the house when it was about birthdays) but other than that, birthdays were pretty much like all the other days during the year.

"Because Jody asked for our help. - And she's a friend. That's why. Even if it's not supernatural ... someone or something's killing people no one had ever seen in this town before and end up in the damn lake or in the woods. She needs proof that it's got to do with the new club-owner." John shot a glance at his son. He knew Dean wasn't fancy about coming in contact with the humans in town. He also knew that Dean cared as much as nothing about the human's business. Though he needed him for this – more than that. He wanted him by his side. Wanted someone else but Robert Singer who he was able to trust.

It was kind of live and let die – or something – for Dean. Specially because the people in town knew who he was and WHAT he was.

"Why pretending it's for my birthday, dad?" Dean asked. Sure he was kind of pissed at John for lying to him. He could've told him streight away. But since their relationship as father and son wasn't that good ever since his mother died ... things just had changed.

"Because we need you there. - I need you there. You go and have fun and we're trying to find something out about the owner ... I need someone else but Bobby to rely on if something goes south." John reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and held a bundle of bills towards his son. "Jody said something about exclusive events there. - she got tickets for the three of us. To take a look at what's so _exclusive_ about the backrooms of the club."

"Probably just about extra expensive hookers. But she needs to be sure. - That's where your job starts. You go and get yourself one of these hookers and try to get something out of her ... or _him_ ..." John shot a knowing smirk at his son, who blushed violently.

"Dad.", he hissed warning.

"What?" John's grin widened. "I saw how you look at the guy in the gun-shop."

"Dad." This time it had more of a growl.

With that Dean sank down in his seat further and lurked out of the window on his side, taking the extra cash from his father. "So ... you really think the hooker's going to tell me what's going on?"

"You'll never know, kid." Bobby answered and sniffed, his face morphing into a disgusted grimace. "You better not eat onion rings the next time ... I won't ride with you guys ever again if you do so."

Dean chuckled and glanced back over his shoulder. "Hey ... maybe you wanna talk to the hooker? Guess you could need some more action in your life." A cocky smirk built on the youngest among the men. "You could charm at HER or _HIM_ with your hidden attributes."

"That's your job, Ken-doll. - I'm less of a model." The old man gave back gruffly. "And now shut up, Idjit."

Dean rolled his eyes and shook his head. Sure he enjoyed clubs. Just not the one in Sioux Falls. Partly because some of the people there knew him and partly because the strippers lived there. So there was always a possibility to cross paths with one them in town on one of his supply runs. And that was something he would gladly miss out.

* * *

They parked the car on the backstreet of the club. Just in case they had to get out there fast and unnoticed by passing civilians. And because they weren't meant to take the entrance on the front. People with these tickets were supposed to take the back entrance to get into a separate area of the club.

A giant guy in a suit, with a bald head and a great dane on his side was checking on the men with the tickets. Not just that ... they also got frisked from tip to toe. Gladly Dean hadn't taken the Baretta with him. His dad and uncle on the other hand had to lay off half of their arsenal at the entry.

Actually the room looked like a usual strip club. There was a stage in the very front and platforms for pole dancers and a lot of chairs and some corners where the light was dim enough to get more private. On the left side of the big room was a bar and a corridor that probably led to some rooms in the back ... for those who prefered to get laid there and not at home.

Beside the three of them weren't a lot people around yet, so they sat down at the bar and checked out their surroundings. They ordered three beers and located the seats that were reserved for them in the second row on the side.

Half an hour later the damn club was full and everyone started to take his seat. What the three of them realized in the first place was, that there was no one around they knew. No town's people ... What probably meant that they had just selected clients ... what meant that there was a possibility, that something was off about this event.

"Very _exclusive_.", Dean muttered towards John and cocked both eyebrows as a very well built guy entered the stage and the room went dark, except for a spotlight that moved towards the stage and landed on the guy. He wore a black suit and a white shirt beneath. His short hair was combed back and covered in about half a tube of styling gel.

"Just play along ...", John muttered, his look remained on the stage.

Dean snarled silently and eyed the guy closer. Something in the atmosphere shifted and a barely recognisable scent of something odd crept into the younger man's nose. His eyebrows furrowed, as he tried to define the smell. John and Bobby must've noticed it too, since they shifted uncomfortably in their seats before they stilled again.

John tilted his head to the side, again without leaving the guy out of his watch and muttered "Shifter".

Dean just nodded and straightened in his chair. "Shifter _s_.", he corrected, as he noticed that the other man who just had entered the stage, wasn't quiet human either.

"What the hell?" Bobby muttered into his beard.

Then the well-built guy welcomed the crowd and explained some of the " _rules_ ". What they didn't expect was that _THIS_ wasn't just about _exclusive_ hookers ... it was about exclusive EVERYTHING.

It was then when they brought the first girl on the stage, that another – new – scent flooded the room. She was human – and obviously seemed to had fun there ... but there was this smell that didn't belong to her. A smell she had carried into the room from behind the stage or somewhere else. Something masculine ... blood ... and was that fear?

The girl didn't seem to be afraid, nor did she look as if she was wounded somewhere. Not just a little bit ... though there remained something in her look ... something _haunted_.

One of the guys in the middle row raised a hand and yelled something about two hours ... Then he stood up and went to the bar, the girl went down from the stage and streight towards him.

Dean was too confused by the scent he was taking in that words didn't get thru to him for a couple of moments.

"You smell that?", he asked silently and eyed John carefully.

His dad nodded and the younger man recognising the confusion that started to settle over the three of them.

"It's definitely nothing good.", John muttered.

Three other hookers followed and then the well built guy tore the looks at him again, as he stood in the middle of the stage. He cleared his throat and rose a hand to calm the crowd down before he spoke.

"For those who are here for our special offers – Sign in over there." He pointed behind the last row of chairs towards a cash desk. "I'm leading you to the cages as soon as you've paid."  
The three men shared confused looks. "Cages?", Dean's voice hitched and he shook his head. "And they say we're monsters ... - Dude, that's just sick." They younger Winchester already sensed that this wasn't about some BDSM stuff.

John laid his hand on his son's lower arm and gave him a determined look. "You go and have a look at the cages. - You've about seven hundred dollar in bills. - Whatever it is, we need to know what's so _special_ about it ..."

Dean sighed deeply and rolled his eyes. "I thought I'm supposed to be the one who has fun?"

John petted Dean's shoulder and grinned. "Change of plans, son. - Me and Bobby are going to hang around at the bar and have all the fun while you're doing the research." He chuckled.

Dean glared at him and growled. He watched two men before him rise and heading towards the cash desk. So did he, as another girl entered the stage just clothed in boots and lace lingerie. He glanced a last time over his shoulder towards the stage before he reached the desk.

* * *

A couple of minutes later, he was back at the bar, greeted by two pairs of confused looking eyes.

"Thought you'll have a look at the cages?", John asked stuttered and put the beer aside.

Dean sniffed and rose a finger to make an order. "Yeah. - _WE_ will. I paid for the two of us. Father and Son are looking for a little plaything.", he sing sang and ordered a beer. "Thought interrogating HER or _HIM_ would be more rewarding ..."

John glared at him, while Bobby swallowed back a laughter. "What?"

Dean cocked an eyebrow and watched his father's face fall. "Thought ... why should it be just me who's having _all the fun_." He chuckled and nodded towards the female bartender, who placed his order in front of him.

"Besides ... I got a little enlightenment about how this is going to work. - No phones. If we wanna make a vid, we've to pay for it extra. Tools are in _the room_ we'll be brought in." He glanced at Bobby. "Better talk to Jody. - Let her know what's going on. Tell her to get her guys on the street and stuff."

John eyed his son cautiously. "You sure? - Maybe it's just some BDSM stuff ... you know ..."

Dean rose a hand to stop his father from continuing and shook his head. "I don't wanna know how you could possibly thing that. - Just keep it to yourself." It was this scent that made him feel a little uneasy at the moment. Something about this was wrong – so very wrong. "If it would be just THAT, then why do I have the slight feeling that this isn't just about the weird sex stuff? - It doesn't smell like this, does it? - It smells like someone has _died_ around here ..."

John frowned. Sure he knew his son was right. There was this tingling scent of death hanging in the air. Not noticable for humans though. But for him and _his kind_ it was.

"Gentlemen?", the well-built guy interrupted them, wearing a bright smile and showing his white teeth. "Are we ready?" The smile was nearly blinding ... and _disgusting_ somehow. The man smelled disgusting ... he smelled like a liar – or even worse – like a sifter.

Dean nodded and elbowed John as he slid from the stool.

"Well then. - Follow me, gentlemen.", he said and turned around, leading the both of them thru the crowd towards the corridor they had spotted before. They followed the man along towards its end, where a door led into a room. It had to be some kind of storrage, by the looks of it. There was a whole lot of booze and expensive stuff. Also champagne ... and something that looked like small drug-packs. He led them thru the storage towards another door. The man unlocked it and guided them along another corridor, handing Dean a key with a pendant and a room number. Then they rounded a corner and ended up in front of another locked door.

The man opened it for them and there was another room. Though ... this room smelled kind of horrifying. It was dim and cold. It smelled like all kinds of bodily fluids. And there were several heartbeats. Some clam and slow, others erratic and uneven.

Dean and John's eyes grew wide as they _saw_ that _cages_ were exactly what the man was showing them. _Cages_ with inhabitants. - Ten of them. The definite scent of fear covered up EVERYTHING. This and the smell of blood and well ... _death_. Someone had died in there ... DIED.

The man before them slowed his pace and let the Winchesters look around, eying his property closely. Dean tried to keep his poker face on and managed it somehow, while John's face grew paler with every cage they passed.

There was no doubt. All the inhabitants were humans by the smells of it. Some of them seemed to be dehydrated and overly exhausted. Not to mention that they haven't gotten to eat anything in about a week or two ... or even longer.

Dean let himself be led by the unmistakable scent the already had noticed when they entered the first corridor right behind the club.

John nearly bumped into his son, as Dean stopped suddenly and squat down. He didn't say anything. He just stared into the cage before him, eying the huddled figure in the left back corner. There wasn't a lot to make out, except the being's scent. A remarkably unique scent, by the way. The scent he had already smelled in the club – just not that strong.

Dean saw just darkness and the silhouette of a probably male human. The cage seemed to small for him, since he could make out long arms wrapped around his legs.

 _Fear ... blood ... desperation_ ... The man was hurt, his heart rate way too fast and he was bleeding.

The man in the suit stopped and turned around on his heels – still wearing his disgusting smile, as he laid a hand on the top of the cage.

"I wouldn't choose this one.", he said, "You chose the _whole nine yard_ ... and this one ..." He nodded towards the cage, ".. he won't last long. - Lesser fun, isn't it?" A devilish smirk spread over the man's face. "I'd suggest the one over there – he's stronger ... and the two of you surely have your fun with him." The man pointed towards the other side of the room. There was a bigger cage with a dark-skinned man in it. He stared at them with a blank expression on his face.

Dean glared over his shoulder towards John and shook his head, pointing at the cage before him. John just nodded, meeting the younger man's gaze.

"This one.", Dean said determined - his face remained impassive.

The older of the Winchesters looked around, eying the cages for a moment, before his look fell back at the suited man. "Why are they all so quiet?", he asked then.

The man chuckled. "Well, we keep them _well-trained_ , sir." he cleared his throat. "But I can guarantee, that he's a screamer if you want him to be a screamer."

Dean swallowed hard and tried to keep his face as unmoved as possible. He tried not to vomit the ingredients of his dinner right there. The younger Winchester glanced at the inhabitant once again before he rose back to his feet. "Seven hundred now and seven hundred when we're done. - That was the deal, right?", Dean stated, eying the man closely.

He just nodded in respond.

"Dad?"

John looked up.

"Go and tell your friend to get the rest of our money.", Dean said, glancing over his shoulder.

"You sure? - He said he won't last ..." John obviously tried to put on a little show.

"My birthday, my choice, wasn't that the deal?" Dean kept his poker-face on.

John nodded with a sigh. "Sure. - Your birthday, Son." With that he nodded towards the suited man.

"Well then. - I'll bring you to _the room_." The man said and looked at Dean. "One of my men is bringing you back to your friend in the front." He nodded towards John and he nodded back. Because there were no words to say right now. Everything he would've loved to say to the disgusting guy would've revealed that they weren't going to torture and kill the human.

* * *

Half an hour later Dean and John entered their room. Besides a double-bed and the black carpet beneath it, the room had more of a dungeon after all. Chains and shackles on the walls. Some hung from the ceiling. Two long tables with all kinds of weird stuff stood in the middle of the room. Tools Dean hadn't ever seen in his lifetime – not even as a mechanic. He wasn't even sure if a doctor would use any of this stuff during a surgery.

A cold shiver ran down the younger Winchester's spine, as he eyed some of the other weird things that hang from the walls.

"Where's he?" Dean turned around on his heels to face the guy with the big smile again.

"My men will bring him to you shortly ... They are just getting him cleaned up and prepared for you.", he said, "If you need something else, just use the intercom." He pointed at the two buttons and the loudspeaker beside the threshold.

John nodded. "I thing we have everything we need."

With that the man's smile widened and he showed his white teeth again, then he left and closed the door behind him. The two Winchesters stood there for a long while, eying the contents of the room for some time. Then John started to stroll towards the both tables with the tools and a disgusted expression settled over his face.

"The whole nine yards, huh?", he muttered to himself. He could clearly imagine what that meant ...

A couple of minutes later a knock was heard and Dean turned towards the door. "Yeah?", he called out. Even if he knew that there were two men in front of the door and the man from the cage ... he had to - at least - act like he was human. Dean would recognise this smell everywhere. Besides the fear and a whole lot of other scents, there was this typical nuance that was just _him_.

The door opened and two men stepped in. One of them held a leather-cord in his hand, tugging on it. A tall man followed them and soon the two Winchesters saw that the leash was connected to a collar around the man's neck. The man's head was directed downwards, his look glued to the floor. His shoulder hunched over, as if he was in pain. He didn't wear shoes nor socks, though he seemed to be _clean_ – like ... Dean swallowed visibly ... like he had just taken a shower. _Or had been forced to take a shower ..._

Now – in the light of the bulb – Dean was able to _see_. The man was definitely taller than he was and way skinnier as he was supposed to be. His skin was pale, as if he hadn't seen any sunlight in months. Now he was able to _see_ the longer dump chestnut-brown hair, that was sticking to the man's face. A bare chest, covered in older and fresh scars. Bruises. And red welts. Some of them torn thru his skin. - And all of them seemed to be untreated.

"Thank you." John waved at them, to back off.

Those just nodded and the one who was holding the leash, removed it from the collar, nudging the man forward - _towards the Winchesters._

"Have fun, guys." An amused glint flashed over the man's face. "Call when you're done. - We'll clean up then." And with that they were gone.

Dean and John shared a shocked look. - _Just like that_ \- they'd come and clean up their mess. Like these men had done this _a hundred times_ before ... like they were used to get rid of corpses on a daily basis.

"Holy shit, _dad_ ..." Dean muttered and sat back on the bed, resting his head in his hands. "What are we gonna do now?"

John shrugged and eyed the lanky man in the middle of the room closely. "Wait ..."

"They're filming us. - They're freaking filming us. They're gonna know that something's wrong if we don't try something ..." Dean sighed and looked up, the scent of this man burnt into his mind like a branding. "We can't even change if we'd need to. - Not without being caught on film."

* * *

His heart pounded in his chest. He wasn't sure if he was able to survive another session with men like this. Maybe he wouldn't come back into his cage like the girl two weeks ago. Maybe he'd be blessed with death tonight.

There was nothing more he wanted than to lay down and sleep. A part of him couldn't wait for getting chained up again, so he wouldn't have to stay on his feet any longer. Though it didn't seem like these men were going to do it very soon.

He had learned early that he wasn't supposed to listen to conversations, except they were directed at him. So yeah – he didn't pay attention to the men's words.

Just when he saw a pair of heavy boots close before his feet, his breath caught, and he squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for his torture to start.

* * *

Dean rose from the bed, still eying the man who stood there in just a pair of jeans, his hands tied together on the back of his back. He walked over to him slowly and stopped in front of him. He saw the younger man holding his breath and as he started to tremble. Dean's eyes narrowed and he lifted his hand, brushing the dump hair out of the younger man's face and behind his ear.

"We won't hurt you, kiddo.", Dean whispered silently, taking a deep inhale, as he moved closer to his ear. "We're here to save you and the others." He swallowed hard. "Just play along."

There was no reaction.

Dean stepped back from the man and shot a glance at the camera in the upper left corner of the room. He dearly hoped that the guy in front of him understood what he was saying. Dean reached for the man's hand and took it in his, guiding him towards the bed.

"Sit down.", Dean said silently, not letting go of the big hand in his.

The man obeyed – _just like that._

He shared an angered look with his father. There was nothing more he wanted to do than getting out of there. All of them. _All of the humans in the cells._ These people needed medical attention. - Needed probably more than just that. THIS MALE needed medical attention and that like one week ago. It was hard for a young wolf like him to hold his temper under control. Specially since he wasn't the shy and calm type of a male anyway.

"How long have you been here?", Dean asked, trying to get eye contact with the man.

But he wouldn't look up. Nor did he answer. Probably he wasn't supposed to talk, or maybe he didn't realize that this question was directed at him. So the younger Winchester squeezed the man's hand carefully.

"You can talk to me. - So ... what's your name?", he tried it again.

"Sam.", the man answered.

Dean's lips curled up into a small smile. "My name's Dean. - And that's my dad. - John." He pointed at the man beside the table, who held up one of the knifes and immediately put it back down as he heard his name being said.

Sam didn't look up, nor showed any sign of interest.

"Look, we're gonna remove your bindings now." Dean rose both of his hands, showing his empty palms. Then – he ever so slowly – stood up and got one form the knifes from the table. He heard the younger man's heart quicken, as he narrowed back towards him. He smelled pure fear radiating from the young man, as he brought the knife to his wrists and cut the tape.

Dean then laid it back on the bed, an arm's reach away and ripped the tape from Sam's skin, watching him closely.

Sam didn't even flinch.

"It's going to be okay, Sam.", he whispered, "We'll get you out of here in no time."

John walked back along the other side of the tables in the meantime, checking out wich of the items he could use as a weapon, in case they had to fight. And he honestly didn't want to change in the middle of the town. Sure most of them knew who the Winchester's were. And though, they could never be sure. And the last thing they needed were _hunters_ on their tail. So doing it like humans was probably the best solution. After all he, Bobby and Dean were way faster than humans anyway and they still had their animalistic instincts to rely on.

Seconds later, all hell broke loose ... There were screams and yells and gunshots ... And then the door to their room burst open ...

_... to be continued?_

* * *

  
  


* * *

** Of Werewolves And Humans **

** Chapter 2 ~ Instincts **

* * *

… _. and then all hell broke loose._

The door to the room burst open and the guy from earlier stood there. A gun in his hand, darting with its barrel thru the room, until he found the bullets destination – **Sam**.

While the tall man on the bed remained unmoved, the whole room erupted and jumped into action. Dean, whose animalistic instincts kicked in in a split second, jumped from the bed, while John turned around on his heels.

The older of the Winchesters yelled something to draw the man's attention towards him, but it was no use. The guy had his orders and there was no way he'd abandon these.

Before he was able to pull the trigger, Dean was on his feet, a dangerous snarling and growling from the depths of his throat filled the room. And then everything happened just in a couple of seconds. The younger Winchester's face deformed, bones broke, joints shifted while he started to rip the clothes and the skin from his flesh. Muscles grew and his body form changed. Dark-grey and brown fur grew, until there was nothing human about him left. And instead of a man there was a giant wolf, snarling, growling, rumbling. Baring his white giant teeth, as he blocked the man's line of fire with his body.

Two shots rang out and the wolf felt a burning pain on his hind leg and he made a pained non-human cry.

Seconds later John threw one of the knifes from the table at the aimed man – not missing his destination. He was dead before he hit the ground.

„Fantastic, Dean – Very well done." John couldn't hide the sarcasm his words carried. „Now they've everything on video."

The wolf winced and his head sank towards the floor in a submissive posture.

John ran his fingers thru his salt and pepper hair and shook his head with a sigh. „You don't even have clothes here, kid. - You can't go out there bare ass naked." The older Winchester cursed.

The wolf rumbled and turned towards the bed, just to see the younger man toppling forward. Nearly in the same moment another guy burst into the room but caught himself, as his look fell onto the wolf. His eyes turned into a liquid brown-orange.

Instantly the both Winchesters' heads snapped towards him. The scent of another wolf drawing their attention. And in the very next moment the man at the door was changing. Bigger and scarier than Dean.

„Get the kid out of here! - I'll take care of him!", John yelled in a half growl and in the very next second he fell on all fours, stripping off his shirt and jeans while he did so.

Dean threw in the reverse as soon as John had spoken and started to morph back, until he wore his human form again. While his father kept the stranger occupied, he threw himself towards the stripped off jeans to get himself – at least – half-clothed and was with two long strides back at Sam's side. Gathering him in his arms and lifted him off the floor as if he weighted nothing.

A short glance at the fighting wolves and then he was out of the door, seeking for another entrance than he had come in. His way guided him back to the room, where the cages were. He slowed down for a moment, gazing at the cages and the dead inhabitants inside them. They were all dead. Shots into their skulls.

With another low growl he continued his way thru the room and as he had expected: there was another door that led outside.

A shot rang out behind him, and he felt another burning sensation on his right bicep – just a graze like before but didn't hurt any less. He drew the human form closer to his body, trying to shield him with his own, as he rounded the corner towards the place where the Impala was parked.

But the car wasn't there.

Instead he heard the machine's low rumble coming up behind him and as he turned around he saw two headlights narrowing. Dean stood still, until the car stopped just a couple of feet in front of him. Behind the car – just were he had rounded the corner – three shadows appeared in the darkness.

With a row of curses he hurried towards the Impala. The driver jumped out and slammed the back-door open. Moments later Dean was there and shoved the human on the backseat and he crawled in over him, protecting him with his body, as a bullet broke thru the rear window.

The door on the driver's side slammed shut and Bobby tugged his ball cap up, shooting a glance at the backseat.

„Where's John?", he asked, as he turned the key in the ignition.

„Keeping one them occupied.", Dean gave back, „Drive before they get us!"

And Bobby did.

Five minutes later they passed the „ _Welcome to Sioux Falls_ " Plate and the old man started to slow the vehicle down. „What the hell was _that_?"

„They killed them – all of them." Dean brushed dark-brown strands of hair out of the younger man's face below him. His eyes were closed and he was still unconscious. At least it seemed that way.

He took his face in closely for the first time. Pale skin. Slightly flushed cheeks. His long lashes and dry lips. Though he didn't look that much of a burner right now. And still there was something about the human that drew Dean closer to him.

„They freakin' shot them, Bobby." He got up on his knees and gazed at the graze on his bicep, wich was hardly visible anymore (below the blood). „This weren't just humans. - There was a werewolf, a freakin' werewolf and shifters. - What the hell?" Dean couldn't believe what had just happened. „You think dad's gonna get out there all by himself?"

Bobby glanced in the rear-view mirror. „He's got Sheriff Mills. - She went in with her guys just moments before I spotted you in the alley, kid."

„So … someone knew? Someone warned them about the police?" Dean couldn't believe his own words for a moment. „You think Jody knows the difference between dad and the other one?"

Bobby chuckled. „ _Ohhh yeah_ – I bet she knows the difference, kid. - Trust me."

Dean reached forward and lifted the younger man's upper body up, tugging his feet down, to bring him into a sitting position and leaning him against the other side of the backseat.

„Where're we goin' from here? - Salvage or cabin?", Bobby asked and glanced into the rear-view mirror. „And what about the guy? - Who's this?"

Dean shrugged. „His name's Sam and he was in one of the _cages_ ..." He bit his lower lip, eying the human form opposite of him.

„Wouldn't it be better we get him to a hospital? - He ain't our business …." Bobby frowned as he looked back on the road.

„We'll ask dad when he's back. - I'm not sure if it's a good idea … If they get to him … I mean … when they find him there ..." Dean ran a hand thru his hair and sighed deeply. „They won't keep him in the hospital for very long … and what's gonna happen then? I mean … yo should've seen him … They'd shunt him off into a psychiatric ward or something ..."

The old man cocked both eyebrows and then grinned. „Don't say Dean Winchester's developing a heart for lost humans?"

The younger one snarled in respond. „Shut up, Bobby."

* * *

They drove to the cabin, fifteen minutes outside of the town. - And John was already waiting for them. Black long fur covered in slick crimson, wich dropped to the ground in front of the porch.

Dean stumbled out of the car and towards John. „Dad!", he called out. „You okay? - Is this yours?" Dean ran his fingers over the damp fur on the wolf's side, as he had reached him.

The animal shook its head.

A sigh of relieve fell from the younger Winchester's lips and a small smile tugged on the corners of his mouth. „Better you change back. - I'll go and get the human inside ..."

Within moments there he was again – in his human form - and disappeared in the cabin, while his son worked on getting the giant human out of the car. He lifted him in his arms – once again, as if he weighted nothing - and carried him into the house. Sam's head lolled into the crook of the wolf's neck, making Dean's skin all tingly where the warm puffs his exposed skin.

He carried him streight into his room, where he laid him onto the covers of his bed.

Bobby switched the light on. He already had prepared a basin with warm water, washclothes and towels thrown over his lower arms. Dean growled as he touched the human's clammy skin and frowned.

„And they're calling us monsters.", he muttered to himself, Sam never leaving under his careful watch.

„Was he shot?", Bobby asked and placed the basin and the towels with the washclothes on the nightstand.

Dean shook his head and glanced at the older man. „No. - I think he just passed out ..."

Bobby nodded and threw the washclothes into the luke warm water. „Looks like a convict during the second world-war if you ask me ..." Again he shook his head.

Dean said nothing, just stared at the human body before him for a while. He ever so gently traced feather-light over the vivid bruises on the right side of Sam's rib cage and frowned deeper.

„You need a helpin' hand with this?", Bobby asked then, eying his friend questioning.

Dean nodded and reached for one of the washclothes. The smell of antiseptic fluid now too present for him to ignore anymore. „I'll wash him, you're drying off?"

The old man nodded and they started to work in complete silence. Dean kneeled on the bed and turned Sam on his side as they were done with the with his front. Then they examined the wounds on his back. Bobby started to clean the gashes with the wet washclothes and dabbed them afterwards with a dry towel.

It was too late to stitch them up, since they were probably older than a day, so they just dressed them. Then they removed the jeans, finding another cut high on the younger man's thigh, besides one hell of livid bruises all over the area. Some had the shapes of fingers, some of whole hands and some weren't quite definable.

* * *

It felt weird. _So weird_. He felt hands on him – _gentle_ _hands_. They felt definitely not the same way he was used to be touched. Though, his mind still rebelled against things like this, even when his body was used to it.

His back felt like it was on fire, his head felt like someone had put it into a crimper … actually his whole body felt that way if he was honest to himself. But he had learned to shove this kind of feelings (together with all the others) away. He had to function, had to work. His body had to work. And if it wouldn't he'd get punished. And DEATH was no punishment in this – he just would love to die when they'd be thru with him. It'd be his salvation.

He knew he wouldn't be able to follow orders just now. - He was in no condition to do so. So the best he could do, was probably try to stay as he was. Pretending to be unconscious. Maybe one of these guys would finally realize that there was no use anymore for him.

He was too weak anyway. Even if he would've wanted – there was no way his body would obey any command of his brain.

* * *

„Ow fuck. - What the hell ..." Dean tugged a fresh pair of boxers up the long legs and turned the man on the bed towards Bobby, to get it up the rest of the way. His gaze fell on Sam's lower back and the ray of bruises there. „What the hell did they do to him? - That's just …" Yeah, Dean Winchester had hunted for a couple of years, had seen a lot of things … but he never had seen someone being beaten up like this. _Ever_. - Except on the TV.

John leaned against the threshold and ran a hand over his face. „You saw the room. - You know what they did." He sighed and shook his head. „Jody's going to send Ellen up here tomorrow. - She meant just in case if someone's watching …"

„The boy needs a hospital and no werewolf-vet, John.", Bobby grumbled and let Sam sink back on his back.

Dean threw one of the blankets over the young man and turned towards his father with a frown. „There's something else, isn't it?"

John nodded. „They ended the shifters right there. - The humans are going to end up in prison. - And our vid went missing. - She suggested to leave the man here with us for a while. She meant it's safer here than in the hospital." He pushed himself from the threshold. „Jody also mentioned that there's no lead on the manager. - He just vanished."

„Are we getting the seven hundred back?", Bobby threw in gruffly.

John nodded. „Maybe in half a year." He chuckled as he saw the older man's eyes widen flabbergasted.

„If he's a shifter then good luck with tracking him down …", Dean muttered sarcastically and sat back on the bed. „He's just doing it again – somewhere else ..."

„Not if the boy's talking.", John threw in. „Jody's comin' by in a couple of days … trying to talk to him."

„You mean IF he knows something.", the eldest one corrected him.

„IF he's talking until then." Dean looked down at the man on the bed, suppressing the urge to run his fingers thru the man's hair. It felt weird to be close to this human. It wasn't like he wasn't used to being around humans. _Hell_ , he had spent dozens of nights with them. And though … there was something about the scent of him … Something that called for him, something deep inside him that told Dean to protect the man.

The youngest among the wolves shifted a bit and bowed over Sam. One of his hands slowly moving towards the collar of the survivors neck. He carefully opened it then and removed it, tossing it to the floor beside the bed.

„I don't think you'll need this one anymore.", he whispered softly.

Bobby rose his left eyebrow at John. Both men hadn't expected Dean to care about the human. - Not like this. All the times before the youngest among them wasn't even talking when a human was around them.  
That was why Jody could feel herself honored that he accepted her around him.

* * *

Removing the collar. Sam knew what this meant. It meant another collar – mostly iron – way more uncomfortable and painful if they decided to get him on the wall or hanging him from the ceiling.

 _Or worse_ … they didn't need the collars or shackles for what they had planned for him.

* * *

„I'm in for some sleep. - What about you both?", Bobby asked, glancing at the unconscious man on the bed.

John nodded.

„I'm gonna stay up a little bit longer … just in case." Dean glanced up at his dad with sad big eyes. „Maybe he's waking up."

The other two just nodded and left short after, taking the basin and wasted washclothes and towels with them. They weren't halfway out of the door, when Dean talked up once more: „You know what I don't understand? Why the hell should humans, shapeshifters and a werewolf work together?"

„Why's the banana crooked?", Bobby asked back, his lips formed into ta thin line.

„We won't ever know, probably.", John added with raised eyebrows and closed the door behind him.

… _... to be continued_


	2. Chapter 2

** Of Werewolves and Humans **

** Chapter 3 ~ Protecting What's Mine **

Dean sat there for a long while, staring at the young man. Watching the labored breathing, listening to the hectic heartbeat, feeling the heat that was radiating from him.

Sam had opened his eyes for a couple of moments, had muttered something incoherent, his eyes had been caught in a haze of fear and pain.

Whatever it was that bound him to this human … and after not even twenty-four hours … he started to feel like his responsibility. Something Dean Winchester hadn't felt before – _for no one_. Not even for his pack (his pack wasn't that big of a deal … actually just Bobby, John, Ash, Caleb and Ellen. All the others were dead already – hunted and killed by hunters). Not ever.

Dean backed away towards the bed-end, where he leaned against the engraved wood, watching the man on his bed closely. Actually he would've been a quite handsome guy, wouldn't there've been the bruises and scars and the lack of weight. What brought him to think about the club and what he had seen there. Surely he knew that bastards did exist. He also knew that bad things were happening out there all the time.

He knew about ghosts, ghouls, strighas, witches, shifters, vampires and demons, just to mention a couple of these monsters. He also knew what they were capable of. And he also knew that humans were able to do more cruel things than all of these bastards together. And though … still he wasn't able to make up his mind about HOW someone – no matter if monster or human – was capable of doing THIS to another being.

So his thoughts turned around in an never-ending circle until he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

The late mid-october-night was fading slowly, when Dean woke with a start. First he didn't know WHAT had woken him, until he remembered the happenings from last night and why the hell he slept on the end of his bed in an uncomfortable angle like this. What led him to sit up, as he rubbed his neck and glanced at the place where Sam was supposed to be.

… _but there was no one._

Dean sat up completely and his look flooded thru the dim darkness of the room. With his wolf-instincts he was able to make out a curled up shape in the furthest corner of the room. Since the wolf didn't sense any different scents – and the smell that was dominating right now belonged to the man they had saved last night – he was pretty sure that the form in the corner was _Sam_.

The scent of him triggered something inside his mind – but Dean wasn't able to put his finger at it – not yet. It just felt familiar, as if he was supposed to know who it belonged to.

Dean's legs slid from the bed, as he kept watching the man, covered by darkness. He ever so slowly rose, feeling the wary looks on him as he narrowed carefully. Without fast movements or gestures.

About a yard in front of the man, he squat down.

„Hey – it's okay.", he whispered, well aware that he'd wake the other both anyway. Sometimes their senses were a pain in the ass. „I won't hurt you, you know? No one of us." Dean extended an arm, until his fingertips touched bare skin. He felt the man tremble and his heart quicken again. „You're save now. - You got away from them." Dean inched closer. „There's no cage. No collar. No chains. - _Nothing_." He really tried his best to convince the kid. „Just a usual room with a bed and a closet."

He inched even closer. „I'd like that you come back to bed. - It's chilly out here without clothes, isn't it?" No one ever had heard Dean Winchester talking that soft and gentle to anyone else in the entire world. „Let me take you back to bed."

He narrowed further … inch by inch.

Sam didn't trust him, and he had definitely every right to do so. After all he was one of the guys who had booked him. Even when his purposes had been of a different nature. He knew that. - But Sam didn't. For Sam he probably was just one of these guys that came to take something from him.

„I promise. - I won't touch you if it's not okay with you, Sam." He pulled back his hand, since he was now so close to him, that he was able to feel the younger man's breath on his bare shoulder. „You okay with that?"

„Yes, sir.", a silent answer was heard.

„Fine. - Now come. I'll help you back in." Dean rose and extended his hand again, feeling hesitant long fingers curling around his. A satisfied grin tugged on the wolf's lips, as he helped the human up on his feet, just to save him from breaking down a split moment later.

* * *

Sam's legs had given out under him – _just like that_. He didn't even remember how it came that he ended up in the corner in the first place. He knew he was a screw up. - His father had always told him that. That was probably why he had sold him to these people. That was why his dad hadn't loved him – had drunk his way thru life. Had beaten him up.

Sam was a screw up – that was why he didn't deserve better. Deserved to be treated like a whore. Just like his father had said to him before the men took him away.

Despite his weakness, Sam tried to get back on his feet all by himself. Tried to hold at least his own weight. This man wasn't supposed to help him. Wasn't supposed to carry him.

„I'm sorry, sir.", he muttered, trying to show that he wasn't weak, was able to hold himself up right. - Besides he didn't want to get beaten all over again for being what he was. And he would've lied if he would've said that he didn't prefer a bed instead of the floor either.

* * *

Dean kept his arm around the younger man's waist, despite the fact that he obviously wanted to try to make the couple of feet towards the bed all on his own. And he failed – _miserably_ …

Dean tightened his hold around the young man further, as his knees went out below him again. There was no use. He wouldn't make it to the bed that way. - Not in a hundred years. Not as much as he probably wanted to.

So he decided for Sam. _Just like that._ And lifted him up in his arms. Sam tensed in the wolf's hold, pulling his arms tight against his front and slammed his eyes closed.

Dean made a couple of steps towards the bed and lowered him back onto the comforter carefully.

„It's okay, you know?", he whispered softly, brushing a bang out of Sam's face. „I'm not going to hurt you in any way. - I promised, do you remember?" Dean tried to give him one of his most charming smiles, but failed.

The man below him avoided his gaze, even as he opened his eyes. He looked everywhere else except Dean's bright green circles.

A „ _Thank you, sir._ " followed and Sam immediately curled up on his side. No matter how much the gashes on his back tore, how immense the bruises hurt – this was the only way he would feel safe, was able to feel comfort. Even when it might looked stupid to everyone else. Even when it hurt him more than any other position would do.

Dean drew the blanket back over the man and headed back to the place where he had fallen asleep before. He shook his head and laid back on the end of the bed, slipping with his legs under the comforter.

Despite his sleepiness he didn't let himself drift off. He stayed awake, high alert – thinking – until the first warming sunbeams illuminated the room.

He felt responsible for HIM. He couldn't help himself, and he knew that it was damn stupid to feel that way for a stranger. - For a _human_.

* * *

Dean kept watch until the door to his bedroom cracked open. A low rumble left the depths of his throat by instinct, as he glared dangerously at the invader. - John Winchester. The tense expression on the young man's face faded in an instant as he recognised who the spy was and cocked an eyebrow as if he was asking what his father wanted from him.

John eyed his son for a moment, but then gave him a sign to follow. So Dean crawled from the bed carefully, not to wake the sleeping human, and followed the unspoken order. He let the door wide open, as he followed John across the living room into the kitchen.

Bobby sat at the table, turning a bottle of beer in his hand and looked up as his both friends entered. „How's he?"

Dean sighed and slumped down in the chair on the other side of the table, looking tired at the older man. „Sam's asleep. - Woke up once. Was completely out of it ...", he explained hoarsely and sighed. „Did Jody say _when_ Ellen's comin' around?"

John sat down at the table with two mugs of coffee and shook his head. „Guess as soon as the sheriff thinks that it's safe enough." He watched his son curiously over the edge of his mug and shoved the other one towards him. „Did he say something?"

Dean huffed and reached for his coffee, taking a long sip from it. „Hell _no_. - Nothing besides **yes sir** and **thank you sir**." He shook his head and his gaze fell. „I guess he's following orders. I'm not even sure if he's got his own will anymore." A sad expression settled over his features and a lost look traveled over his hands. „Humans are so damn vulnerable, aren't they?" Now he looked up frowning.

Bobby and John shared a glance. „Did you hit your head?", John asked then in disbelieve.

Dean's frown deepened and cocked an eyebrow - questioning. „Not that I could remember … why?"

„Because I'm damn sure something's wrong with you. - Do you _feel_ sick? Are you feeling like gettin' a fever, boy?" Bobby took him in closely.

„Because snarling at your pack-leader is usually not a common thing.", John added – looking kind of wary.

„Do we even have a leader?" A cocky grin formed on Dean's lips and a challenging glint lit up in his emerald-green circles.

John's expression hardened. „Don't tempt me, boy."

And with this the staring-contest had started …

Ten minutes later – and no one of the both of them seemed to want to give in.

„Okay, guys. - Stop it." Bobby slammed his flat palm on the table before him, and the two Winchesters jolted out of their trance. „Since when do we discuss about leading a pack? - Are we even a pack?"

Both Winchesters glared at the oldest among them.

„Fine. - Now back to business. Of what John told me about the wolf in the club. - He was probably a turned one." Robert Singer's look morphed into a concerned expression. „So since they're usually loners I don't think that there'll be others." He cleared his throat. „What bothers me is the fact that they seemed to know that the police had been called. - What leads to the question how they could possibly know that there'd be a razzia – _before_ I even thought about calling the sheriff - and why they killed those people."

John ran a hand thru his salt and pepper hair and sighed. „Actually it's not our business anymore. You know that. - Our business for now is the human behind door number two until Jody knows where to give him."

Dean looked up from his mug and frowned. - Where to give him? What the hell?" Hot red anger started to build up inside him. „Giving him … like where?" He couldn't control the flaring rage in his voice.

Both men eyed him confused.

„Like a psychiatric ward maybe?" John rose both eyebrows, while he spoke calmly. „It's crystal clear that he won't be able to manage his life on his own for quiet some time."

Dean's eyebrows furrowed. A low rumble came over his lips. „Sam's not going anywhere." _… and that was a fact._ There was no doubt that Dean was considering anything else right now. He wouldn't give him away. Not to strangers. Not to people who didn't know how to handle him. Dean knew that he didn't know it either … and though … he had the feeling that it would be the wrong choice.

Dean rose from his chair, wood scraping over wood.

Again – both men stared up at him in confusion.

„Dean. - WHAT THE HELL'S WRONG WITH YOU BOY?" John shook his head. „Since when do you care about humans. - About a wounded nutcase anyway?"

Bobby laid a calming hand over John's forearm as the older Winchester attempted to rise from his seat – holding him back. A knowing look settled over the oldest of them.  
„It's okay, Dean. Sam can stay as long as you think that you can take care of him." With that Bobby rose and went to the fridge, opening it.

„Do I have a say in this IN MY HOUSE? - Because after all I think that's what it is: MY HOUSE." John huffed in disbelieve.

„Fine. - I'll go and get Sam to Bobby's if you're uncomfortable with a human in YOUR HOUSE." Dean rose both eyebrows and stared at John – AGAIN.

Confusion was written all over the oldest Winchester's face and concern settled in his eyes. „I didn't say that I don't want him here. - I'm just confused by the fact that YOU – _mister i-hate-humans-more-than-the-pest_ – wants to take care of one of them."

„Okay – I've scrambled eggs, bacon and everything for waffles. What's it gonna be?", Bobby asked as he stared into the fridge.

„Well – maybe I think different now.", Dean gave back, ignoring Bobby completely. His body went into a defensive position, his voice sharpened.

„How comes that you changed your opinion about humans that fast?" The oldest Winchester just wouldn't let go. „Is he _your type_?"

„Maybe I can try to get pancakes done too?" Bobby muttered into his beard and sniffed at the strawberries in his hand.

„Screw you, dad. - I just don't want _Sam_ to get locked away in a loony bin full of weirdos." Dean's voice grew louder.

„Dean – what would you say? 's Sam more the type of salt and spicy or sugar and sweet?" Bobby turned around, giving Dean a questioning look.

„What the hell, Bobby?", John barked out and turned around to face the old man.

„Sugar and sweet.", Dean answered a split second later, not even thinking about it further.

The three men glanced at each other alternating. While Bobby grinned, John's eyes widened and he stepped back from the table, throwing his hand over his mouth. Dean was as stuttered as his father, trying to get his racing thoughts back under control.

„Then I guess we're going to have breakfast, don't we?" Bobby's grin widened as he turned back towards the fridge.

… _... to be continued_

* * *

  
  


* * *

** Of Werewolves And Humans **

** Chapter 4 ~ Trusting You **

John slumped back into the chair, his eyes blank with disbelieve and shock. He rubbed over his face with both palms of his hand and shook his head in disbelieve.

Bobby busied himself at the stove. Making scrambled eggs and bacon on the hot plates and waffles with the waffle-maker on the counter. Dean had gotten out of his shocked state shortly after he had answered Bobby's question about what he thought Sam would prefer for breakfast. He then stood wordlessly beside Bobby and cut the strawberries into small pieces.

Finally John Winchester managed to get up from his chair again. Without looking at the other two of his companions, he went into the living room. Grabbed the keys of the Impala and his jacket and left without a word.

„Dad's pissed.", Dean muttered and stole a glance at the older man beside him, who poked around in the pan with the scrambled eggs.

„He's not.", Bobby gave back and put the pan with the eggs from the hot plate. „He just can't understand it right now. - Give him some time." The old man cleared his throat. „He has to wrap his mind around it. You know your dad. He's going to be okay with it."

Dean huffed. „Dad thought I'll meet a nice werewolf-girl, gonna marry her and we'll have a whole lot of puppies in our front garden, Bobby." Dean said sarcastically. „Besides … he's a nutcase. - _Why_ him?"

Bobby chuckled and patted Dean's back. „I don't have all the answers, kid. - Sometimes it's just plain destiny."

* * *

Dean put the warm waffles on a plate and the chopped strawberries beside them. Then he stole a few stripes of bacon and stuffed them into his mouth, barely chewing them. He turned around with the plate in one hand and a glass with orange juice in his other and stood there, eying the door to his bedroom warily.

„Go. - Before it's cold." Bobby patted the younger wolf's shoulder.

Dean frowned and nodded, making his way out of the kitchen, thru the living room and into the bedroom. He entered silently and eyed the sleeping man on the bed while he walked over to him. Sam looked nearly peaceful like this. Though there were creases of distress on his forehead.

Dean placed the plate on the nightstand and sat down on the edge of the bed beside Sam, still watching him.

He didn't know how long he sat there, before the human showed first signs of awakening. His eyebrows furrowed and his left arm moved towards his stomach before it made its way up to his face. Sam squeezed his eyes shut and took a deeper inhale. - At least as deep as possible without hurting too much.

He felt the comfortable softness and warmth of the bedding and the pillow. And with his awareness the pain came back. Besides his headache there was his whole torso that hurt like a bitch. His thigh and simply everything below and above it. And then there was the unmistakable presence of someone else by his side.

Sam blinked his eyes open, staring on the ceiling above him with unfocused hazel-green circles. Then – when the world started to make sense again, the uneasiness from last night crept back into his mind. The both men and _the room_. - **The Room**.

His frown deepened and he slammed his eyes shut once more, like he tried to clear his vision further. Sam opened them again, but nothing had changed. The smell in the room was different. It looked different. So he glanced to his right where the light came from. It was day. The room looked way smaller as the one he remembered.

That was when he realized that he was just in boxers. And again the unmistakable presence of someone else drove a chill over his skin and he went rigid. Stealing a glance at his left side he saw someone sitting on the bed beside him. From what he had seen it had to be one of the both men from last night.

But what actually let his thoughts race was the fact that he was close to naked and in a bed – and with someone else.

„Hey, Sam.", Dean said softly, wearing a calm smile and warmth in his eyes.

Sam just laid there, not knowing what to do with all of this, since he didn't remember how he got there. - _Did they drugged him?_

„I braught you breakfast.", the man continued and reached at the nightstand for the plate. „Got waffles and orange juice."

Sam didn't look at him. Didn't dare to. He wasn't allowed to memorize the men's and women's faces. He wasn't allowed to talk, or to ask anything. Besides: What sense would it make? - They wouldn't tell him anything if he'd ask. Maybe the man and the woman had sold him to _them_ and now he was his. Maybe that was why the man beside him acted so nice. - To see what Sam's weak spots were and then – when they knew – they'd start thru with him.

Taking the last bit of integrity he had. Taking of little self conciousness he was able to gather.

Dean frowned concerned. He sensed that the man's brain was working hard on figuring out in wich situation he was right now. At least he was able to imagine that he was.

„You're not in the club anymore, Sam.", Dean said silently. „You're with me, dad and Bobby in a cabin."

But Sam just looked down on himself, a lost expression settling on his face.

„You know you can look at me. - I'd like that, you know?", Dean asked. „I like to look in your eyes when I'm talking to you."

Sam stole a wary glance at the man's face. - He was still smiling. Though it looked more like a test and he wouldn't be stupid enough to fall for it. _Not this time._

Dean sighed deeply. „I want you to eat something. - But before you can eat, you've to sit up. So … You think you can do that for me?" Still smiling, though with a touch of concern on his face.

_This was WEIRD._

„Yes Sir." Sam propped himself up on his elbows with a silent whimper. His breaths coming in fast short puffs to cope with the pain.

Dean nodded to himself. He watched the younger man struggle not sure if he should help or not. If it was okay to help him. Finally he decided that there was no way Sam would be able to eat that way, nor get up all by himself in this state. So he put the plate back on the nightstand. - With a little bit more force as would've been needed and Sam flinched. Popped back on the mattress with a pained whine and covered his face and head with his hands and arms. Trying to avoid being hit there.

Dean frowned deeper, watching the man slowly curling up into a fetal position and turning to his side. It was a heart-shattering pain that flared up in the wolf's chest. He was afraid. Sam was afraid he'd be punched. Maybe because he wasn't getting up fast enough. Maybe just because he was Sam.

„Sam, it's okay. - It's okay." Dean laid his hand gently on Sam's shoulder. „C'mon, kiddo. I'm not gonna hurt you. - I'll help you, okay?"

The form below his hand started to tremble.

„I'm going to help you sitting up, Sam. - Yeah?" Dean blew out a long shuddering breath. That didn't work like he had imagined. Maybe it'd be way harder to gain the man's trust. „I'll be careful – I promise."

But there was no response AGAIN.

Dean gathered a slightly frustrated inhale and rose slowly. Sam had to eat, had to drink – because he wanted to. Sure, he could've ordered him to do it. But that wasn't how Dean figured it was wise to do. - For neither of them. Sam was free now, so he should feel that way too.

Dean let go of his shoulder and reached for the plate. He bowed over Sam and placed it on the free half of the bed. Then he eyed him again – closely. The younger man's heart was racing, an unmistakable scent of fear crawled up his nostrils.

„I'll just leave it to you.", he whispered and rose from the bed.

Dean went to the chair on the other side of the room and picket up the worn out tee-shirt there. Then he left without a further word, shutting the door behind him as he walked back towards the kitchen.

Sam waited. He waited and then he heard the door slid into the lock. He lurked thru his fingers at the plate.

It smelled sweet and delicious. And though, Sam knew it could just be a trick. He'd be punished no matter if he'd eat it or not. He knew them – knew this kind of people. No matter how he'd do it, it would be wrong.

* * *

An hour later, Dean paced back and forth in front of his bedroom door, wishing he hadn't closed it. Wishing he could snatch looks inside, seeing if Sam was eating, was drinking. At least if he was okay. Though he knew the best he could do was to give Sam privacy at the moment. - Just leaving him alone.

He looked at his watch again, brushing with his other hand over his mouth. He just couldn't. The waffles would be cold by now – and the man had to – at least – drink something. He HAD TO check on him – just because it was a logical thing and not his feelings drawing him into the room.

Dean got to an hold before the door and opened it slowly. Lurking inside towards the bed where he had placed the plate. It was full. Then his gaze flew over to the nightstand. The glass with juice was empty and a small smile tugged on the wolf-man's lips.

 _Small steps_ … he reminded himself … _it'd be more of a marathon than a sprint._

He strode towards the bed, the loosen floorboards creaked under his heavy boots. Dean saw the man under the covers tense, so he didn't make any attempt to come any closer to him. He aimed at the nightstand with the empty glass, wich he picked up and left the room again, just to come back minutes later with another glass – a bigger one.

As much as his instincts told him to stay there, to sit down on the bed. Crawl onto it. Gathering the human in his arms and holding him tight, showing him that he had no bad purposes. But he couldn't. _He knew that._ It wasn't the right time yet. Sam was too afraid to understand. Too hurt – physically and mentally.

And who knew if Sam – as a human – was supposed to see Dean as Dean saw Sam? Dean had found his mate. - Usually it should've been a werewolf. Or at least a turned one. - But fait had decided different for him. There were just a few lore about human mates among the wolves in general and Bobby said he'd dig some of them out. See what they would find out about how it worked out in the past.

And even if Dean tried to shove his instincts aside, to suppress his feelings for the human – he simply wasn't able to. And he would never be. - Just because their souls were related to each other. Just because they _belonged_ to each other …

Sure there were rare cases where these souls met each other, but one of them wasn't able – in some kind of way – to return the feelings. Either because there was a too giant difference in age or because the other soul was born again as a butterfly (that's not something that actually happened, but though – Dean Winchester didn't find another way to explain stuff like this to himself).

Dean knew – maybe he'd be hurting, maybe the human wouldn't be able to respond to his feelings. And even if it'd be that way: Being a mate didn't just mean sex. It also meant to be there for each other. Deep infinite love for each other no matter what happened. - No matter in what direction in may went.

So yeah, Dean Winchester would never let his mate down. Even if he'd stay the way he was right now. Even if Sam would never be like he had imagined his mate (besides that he thought it'd be female). Even if they'd just be friends … or whatever … he wouldn't let him down.

 _Wouldn't let his soul-mate down._ And probably even if he wanted to try, he wouldn't be able to do so.

Dean placed the glass with orange juice on the nightstand and moved towards his closet. He busied himself for a while in the room. Trying to decoy the human – making him used to having someone around who didn't hurt him.

After a while of sorting his clothes out, he heard the front door from the cabin open, a couple of heavy footfalls and then a thump and the door slammed close again. Dean looked over at the bed, seeing that Sam hadn't moved yet. The glass remained still with the same amount of juice …

The unmistakable scent of his father crawled up his nose, and he threw the shirts over the end of the bed. With a sigh he looked once more at the human and then at the door.

_Now or never …_

With a sigh, Dean headed out of the room, surprised to see his father not drunken at all. Dean had figured his dad had taken off towards a bar to gulp down a couple of drinks. Instead the older Winchester threw three shopping-bags on the couch and slumped down beside them, wiping sweat from his forehead.

„You wouldn't believe how many people are in this damn freaking shopping mall. - It's like they've all off of work today and can't get enough of shopping. - And these kids. I tell ya'. - So many children. - so many LOUD children … and all in one place.", John whined. „I hate children." He pulled in a deep breath. „And these old people at the cash desks. - Boy. - Shouldn't they stay at home and plan their funerals?"

Dean had stopped in his tracks and listened to his father curiously. „You were …. shopping?", he asked in disbelieve. „In the mall?"

„What do you think where i were, damn it? - The kid needs something to get dressed." John shook his head with a huff. „And shoes. - Have you seen his gigantic feet? You've any idea how hard it is to get shoes for these? - And his legs, man. - they are way too long. Would even be too long for one of our kind. I'm not sure if the clothes I got for him will fit – at least the sweat pants. They look rather short ..."

Dean still eyed his father. Opening his mouth to say something but then did otherwise and closed it again. „John Winchester was shopping?", he asked again.

„Quit it, Dean." John rolled his head and rested it at the backrest then. „It's been one hell of a morning."

„Thanks, dad." Dean smiled and walked towards the couch, slumping down beside him and nudging him into the side.

„You're welcome, son." John grinned, staring at the ceiling. „How's he doing?"

„Didn't eat anything yet. But drunk the juice." He followed his father's example and tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling. „You're okay with it?"

„Can't change anything at that point." John leaned forward and stared at the table. „Where's Bobby?"

Dean glanced at his watch. „Picking up Ellen. - Should be back in about half an hour."

John nodded. „Jody phoned me. - She's coming by tonight."

Dean closed his eyes for a brief moment. „I'll call Bobby. - Maybe he can pick up bananas and milk. - Might as well getting something else but juice into him."

* * *

After Dean had phoned Bobby and given him a list with things the human might need (since the three of them were living of all meat and real heavy food Sam wouldn't be able to digest. - At least not in his current state), he headed back into his bedroom, glancing at the glass.

It was empty.

For a moment he thought. Then he continued his way towards the bed in a slow pace, sitting down on the edge of the bed. Sam seemed to be asleep. His eyes were closed, his breathing shallow and his heartbeat slow but steady.

He sighed and closed his eyes for a moment.

Sam whimpered silently, his sleep became more and more restless within seconds. He moved below the covers, his muscles stiff. - And Dean didn't know what to do, how to help. Sure he was already thirty years old … but he never had to do with someone traumatized like Sam. Had never really experience with having to soothe someone in _this_ state.

„Sam.", he whispered, laying his hand on his shoulder. „It's okay … - You're safe ..." He didn't even sound comforting to himself at that point. „You need to wake up."

And mother of all that's holy, Dean really tried it that way. His words became more and more reassuring – and though it didn't work. Sam didn't respond. So the wolf sniffed and counted mentally to three before he rose, lifting the covers and slipped under them. He drew them back up above the curled up male and himself, until just their heads lurked out on the top. Then he scooped with his lower arm under Sam's head and wrapped the other one about his middle, trying not to put too many pressure on his abused ribs.

„It's okay, Sammy.", Dean whispered into the man's ear. „I'm not gonna hurt you. - No one's gonna hurt you. - You're safe. I'll protect you from now on. I promise … no matter what."

Sam's heart rate increased, arms pressed against his body. „ _Please don't … please – I don't want to .. I can't ..._ " Just the first few words were understandable. The rest was just a mixed up murmur.

Dean continued to whisper silent promises into the man's ear, mumbling soothing things and some time later Sam started to relax. Wherever because of Dean's words or because of exhaustion …

… _... to be continued_

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

** Of Werewolves And Humans **

** Chapter 5 ~ Wherever You Go I'll Follow **

THEN:

_Dean continued to whisper silent promises into the man's ear, mumbling soothing things and some time later Sam started to relax. Wherever because of Dean's words or because of exhaustion …_

NOW:

Dean held him protectively in his arms while Sam drifted off into a deeper sleep again. That was when Dean started to feel the lack of sleep and exhaustion on himself. He closed his eyes, promising himself he wouldn't fall asleep. Just closing and resting his eyes. And ten minutes later he was gone too far to recognize Bobby's return and Ellen's arrival. Too deep asleep to feel Sam stir – anouncing his awakening.

* * *

Sam tensed, as he felt the heavy weight of an arm around his middle. The warmth of another body flush against his back. He swallowed around the lump in his throat, fighting back the sob that dared to come over his lips. He sniffed, unshed tears glistened in his eyes as they slowly opened. He closed his eyes once more, his hand shifting carefully over the arm of the man behind him. Long fingers wrapped around it, trying it to lift it from him.

But Dean just tightened his hold on him, not wanting to let go that easy. His instincts were awake and high alert even in his deepest sleep. He wouldn't let his mate go.

Either kind of danger or threat would have woken him right in that moment.

Sam let out a shuddering breath, as he opened his eyes again. It had to be the same man who had been sitting on his bed before. The same man, who had bought him from his previous owner. And god help him – he didn't want this anymore. Didn't want to be everyone's doll.

Sam's breath hitched and a hopeless hiccup wrenched from the back his throat. Tears started to pour down his cheeks, dripping onto the stranger's bicep and seeping into the pillow under his head.

Dean's eyes snapped open and the - from sleep - dilated emerald-green eyes focused within a split moment. He felt the human in his arms shake, felt the dampness of the pillow against the skin of his bicep and the wetness against his skin.

„Sam?", he asked, his hand moved to the man's hip, where he let it rest. „It's okay. - I didn't want to …" Dean sighed and shook his head slightly. „I didn't … _we_ didn't do anything, kiddo. - You had a nightmare."

Sam tried desperately to stop himself from crying. He wasn't allowed to cry. Wasn't allowed to act like he did right now and he knew it. - So would the was no use for him. He was probably one of the worst _kind-of-hookers_ everyone had ever seen.

Dean brushed gently over the soft skin under his hand, gently rubbing circles with his thump into it. „You wouldn't wake up." _…. and I didn't know what else to do._ „I was worried you'd hurt yourself ...", the younger Winchester tried to explain.

„Yes Sir." Sam swallowed a sob as he brushed the wetness from his cheeks with his open palm. „I'm sorry, Sir."

Dean closed his eyes and let out a long breath. „Let me hold you, okay? - You'll see nothing bad's gonna happen."

More tears fell from Sam's eyes. He felt so _helpless_ … „Yes sir."

„And stop calling me _sir_ , Sam.", he added a few moments later. „I'm not _that_ old."

The human male sniffed, his body shook with sobs and hiccups – wrecked from crying. „I'm sorry, sir.", he gave back after a couple of moments, when his voice seemed to be stable enough again.

* * *

After a long while – as no tears were left – Sam's weeping subsided and he found some kind of comfort in the wolf's embrace. And Dean just lay there, holding him gently. He didn't dare to move, nor to shift just a bit ever since the crying had stopped. Dean didn't want to do something wrong – not after _he_ had finally calmed down.

„See?", Dean asked softly. „Nothing's happening, Sam. - We're not going to hurt you. - We're here to _help_ you."

He felt the human tremble in his arms, as he drew in a shallow breath.

„You're going to be okay, you know? - There's no punishment. Nothing you've to be afraid of." Dean pulled back a little, as the human shifted. His arm, where Sam's head rested on, had fallen asleep and was completely numb. But it didn't matter to him – _not at all._

The human pulled his arms up and pressed them against his body, as if he wanted to shield himself from _whatever_ he was afraid of. Dean guided his hand up towards Sam's, wich now rested against his chest and cupped them in his smaller one.

„My dad brought some clothes for you. - And I smell that Bobby's cooking something for us." He inched closer again and tugged the blanket up a little higher.

The man tried to be nice. _Real nice._ And Sam just couldn't believe that the man seemed to think that he was that stupid. Sam wasn't free and he'd never be. He KNEW that. _They_ had made that clear at the very beginning. They had made a lot of stuff clear to him. And soon he had understood. He knew that there wasn't someone who'd come for him. _Who'd save him._

Sam had tried to flee, but he had failed – and got punished. The guys who had bought him from his father had locked him into a bedroom with two others. A collar around his neck. A shackle around his left wrist that was attached to a chain, wich was anchored at the bed-end of the bed. - Yeah, it had been hard at the beginning. Sam was hardly able to accept his fait back then. Sometimes he didn't understand why this all was happening. Even after all these years.

Sam's bladder was calling for release ever since he had woken up – and crying had just improved the need of a bathroom. He knew he shouldn't have drunk that much. Sure he felt better now. His head didn't hurt that much. Even his stomach seemed to have settled halfway. But now he had to wait until the man would let him move.

Dean Winchester sniffed and rubbed his nose against Sam's shoulder-blade. „You haven't eaten your breakfast ...", he began then. „Aren't you hungry?"

Sam bit his lower lip. Thinking of giving the right answer – though he knew there wasn't a right or wrong one anyway. „No, sir."

Dean frowned – thinking. How could he possibly lure the human out of his mental prison without pushing? There had to be something … something he _needed_. Or _wanted_ so bad that it was worth to leave the dark place he was in.

„Do you want to get cleaned up? - I mean … you've to feel gross, don't you?", he asked, thinking that he should start with standard needs, and the man hadn't been in the bathroom ever since.

All Sam thought was BATHROOM. So yeah, if it meant to get a cold shower and had the chance of releasing his overfilled bladder, he'd take the chance. So he nodded.

„Yes, sir."

With that Dean pulled his arm free,sat up forcefully and was on his feet in no-time. „Awesome. - C'mon, I'll help ya'." He smiled and reminded himself: _Baby steps._ \- There was no hurry. _No need to push._ They had time.

Sam slowly uncurled from his fetal position, rolling onto his back. He pushed away the pain, telling himself that he had to if he wanted to get to the bathroom in time. So the only thing that showed that he was in pain, were the pain filled lines all over his face and a pleading expression in his eyes.

„Okay. - Look, we've to leave the room. The bathroom's on the other side of the living-room." Dean bit his lower lip – again thinking. „There'll be other people outside probably.", he said then, „My dad and Bobby are around here somewhere. - But don't you worry. They wouldn't hurt a fly."

Sam didn't look at him. He sat up awkwardly, the crispy air chilly to his skin. He sat on the edge of the bed for a few moments, trying to hold onto something while the spinning room slowly got to a hold. Then he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder.

Everyone else would've looked up at the person who was touching him, but Sam didn't. He just tensed. He knew the man wouldn't let him go on his own. _They never did._

„I'll help you, okay?" Dean tried to sound as uncaring about Sam's reaction as possible. „I'll help you to get to the bathroom and then I'll wait outside … And you'll holler if you need something?"

„Thank you, sir." Sam swallowed hard. „Yes, sir."

So Dean helped him to his feet, wrapping one arm of the man around his shoulders and he placed one of his around the taller man's waist to stabilize him. They made their way to the bedroom door without any problems. Dean then opened it and guided him outside.

His father and Bobby were sitting in front of the TV on the couch. The volume was turned down and barely audible for any human around.

The moment Sam seemed to realize that there were two other people in the room, his erratic heartbeat seemed to climb up rapidly again. He was shaking now and by the time they reached the bathroom across from the room they were in right now, Sam was ready to break down, curl up and stay where he'd fall.

Dean glanced at his father and Bobby, grateful that they ignored them. They didn't even glance at them or watch what Dean and Sam were doing. But Dean knew they were alert and ready to hurry up if they'd need any help.

„There you go.", Dean muttered and skipped the bathroom door open, switching on the light with his free hand.

By the time he helped Sam sitting down on the toilet bowl, he was covered in sweat, his breath coming in short pained puffs.

„You think you're able to handle the rest on your own?", Dean eyed him curiously. Not sure if it'd be a good idea to leave him alone.

Sam nodded. „Yes sir.", he choked out, one arm wrapped around his ribcage as he tried to catch his breath.

„Call when you're done and I'll bring you back." Dean hesitated for a moment before he left and closed the door behind him.

He leaned with his back against it and looked towards the two men on the couch, wich finally decided to give him attention. Then there was silence for a while. Everyone of them seemed to listen for any noises inside the bathroom.

„Why didn't you wake me?", Dean asked silently.

„The two of you were fast asleep and Ellen said she's in no hurry.", Bobby answered calmly, glancing towards the kitchen. „We figured it's better if we wait. - In daylight he looks even more horrible by the way."

John nudged Bobby in the side and growled silently. „The shopping bags are in my bedroom _by the way_."

Dean cocked an eyebrow at his father and pushed away from the door. Again stopping for a moment. „I'll be right back, Sam. - Just getting something for ya'."

Sam eyed the shower stall curiously and thought about taking a long hot shower. But he figured that his wounds wouldn't take it so kindly. Besides he didn't think that he'd be able to stay on his feet long enough to shower.

Instead he turned on the water at the sink beside him and gulped some of it down greedily in case he wouldn't get any. He had learned the hard way to take what he could get in time.

The younger Winchester was back in no time in front of the door, knocking. „You okay in there?", he asked hesitantly with a pile of clothes in his hands.

„Yes, sir.", came back muffled.

„May I come in?" Dean knew Sam wouldn't say no – just because he wasn't used to say NO. Though he figured that taking advantage in this case wasn't bad at all.

„Yes, sir." Sam tugged his boxers back up, before the door opened and sat down on the toilet bowl again.

Dean lurked inside, spotting the human on the bowl and entered then. He kneeled down before him, laying the dark fabric beside his feet.

„My dad got you some clothes. - Might as well put them on, huh? Before you catch a cold." Dean smiled up at him, but still – the man's eyes were hidden behind overlong strands of hair. And he just wouldn't look at him.

Without asking if it was okay that he'd help him, he took the dark-brown sweatpants and looked up again. „I'm gonna help you to get dressed. - I don't think you should bow down and strain your back or ribs too much." With that he took Sam's left foot and let him slide into the pants and then the right one. He tugged them upwards over Sam's legs and knees. The next thing he saw were these fluffy socks in black. All cosy and soft. Dean honestly doubted his father's mental state at this point. - On the other hand, John was right, since he wasn't able to buy any shoes for Sam without trying them on, this seemed to be one of the better possibilities.

The floor in the cabin was cold and didn't warm up at all. So yeah – probably it had been a good idea to get socks like this. Though … somehow it seemed weird to Dean, since he knew just girls who were wearing them.

Dean took Sam's foot in his, his fingertips on Sam's bottom of his foot. The skin there didn't feel as it was supposed to and he frowned. Looking up at Sam for a moment, then back at the foot in his lap. Then Dean lifted it up slightly and took it in - closely. - There were scars.

„What happened to your feet?" Dean looked up again, with a mix of anger and confusion, „Who did this to you?", his voice broke.

„I tried to run, sir.", Sam answered silently, „This way i couldn't … It was my fault. - I just shouldn't have run."

Dean's gaze dropped on the big foot in his lap. „Does it still hurt?" He knew the scars were old ones. Though Dean knew that scar tissues sometimes hurt even when they were a couple of years old. - Specially on body areas like this.

„Sometimes, Sir." Sam stole a wary glance at the man on the floor, feeling gentle fingertips brushing over his toes. „But it's not bad, sir."

Without wasting any more thoughts about fluffy socks and scars, he slipped Sam's feet into a pair of them and rose with a sweater-vest in his hands.

The human was shivering violently by now. - Probably it was already too cold in the cabin for a human being. Dean had to admit that he and the others didn't feel the cold as intensive as humans. Werewolves had a different metabolism after all.

„Sam?", Dean asked and laid his hand on the human's yaw, guiding his face up. „Look at me." It wasn't an order, nor a plea. It was requested with such warmth and tenderness, leaving some room for Sam to decide if or if not to follow his request.

And Sam looked up – for the first time in a long time – looking in someone else's eyes. So it was that hazel-green eyes met emerald-green ones.

Dean smiled, brushing chestnut-brown bangs out of Sam's face and behind his ear. These eyes reminded him of something – SOMEONE. So familiar and though strangers.

Moments later the human male was on the verge of tears again.

„You're freezing." Dean helped him into the sweater-vest and zipped it up. „I'll bring you some hot chocolate later. - For now you'll go back to bed." He laid his hand on Sam's yaw again and guided it up to look into these unbelievable vivid colours of his eyes. „I want you to look at me when we're talking, Sam. - I want to know if you understand me, or not." Dean's voice had dropped an octave.

„Yes sir."

Dean nodded and helped him on his feet. Tugging the sweatpants up over his hips. „You did real great so far." He smiled, and wrapped an arm around Sam's lower back. „Now lets get you back to bed and warmed up again, huh?"

„Yes sir." Sam felt grateful for the clothes and the chance to rest before they would start to work on him. He knew it was stupid to feel that way. - Because deep down inside him he knew that no one should be treated the way he had been and would be in the future. Though – he had to take what he got. _And somehow he sure deserved all of this._

* * *

The man didn't go with him to bed again. He just tugged the covers around him and then left, leaving a fresh glass with juice on the nightstand. It didn't last long until he drifted off to sleep again.

* * *

Sam woke to a gentle voice. Someone was saying his name … and something about waking up. But he didn't want to. It was warm, it was comfortable and he didn't get beaten up in more than a day by now. He didn't want to wake up from a dream like this. Didn't want to face reality again.

But obviously he had to.

„Sam. - C'mon." Dean glanced up at the blonde woman beside him. „Ellen's here. - She's gonna have a look at your ribs and stuff." He squeezed the man's shoulder gently.

Finally Sam's eyes blinked open and he glanced up sleepily. Freezing as soon as he saw the man and a woman standing beside his bed. - His gaze immediately dropped as he was taught to do.

„There you go, kiddo." Dean smiled, though his heart sank as Sam wouldn't look at him, _again_. „That's Ellen. - She's going to check you over."

„Yes, sir."

Ellen and the younger wolf shared a short worried glance. Then she sat down on the edge of the bed. „That's our patient.", she said with a sad smile on her lips. Her smoke-rough voice filled the room with emotional warmth. „So … May I have a look at you?"

Sam stole a glance at her face. She smiled at him. „Yes, Ma'am." He shuddered and closed his eyes as she tugged the blanket down.

„First I'm gonna check ya' head, hon.", she informed him. „But … you gotta look at me when we do so."

Sam nodded and turned towards her, his gaze glued to a spot on the wall.

Ellen hovered over him, fumbling a penlight out of her medical case. „Fine, and now you've to look at me.", she muttered.

Sam obeyed. He looked into friendly big brown eyes. The woman touched his cheek like he'd do with any other patient.  
Sam flinched at the sudden movement.

Ellen examined his chest and ribcage, his stomach and his back. And with every area she took in, her face darkened further. She also took a look at Sam's feet (because Dean asked for it). And Sam let her. He just pulled back into himself, into a save haven deep down in his mind. Where it was just him and a golden field of wheat. The sun and blue sky above him. Where birds sang and everything was okay. Where he didn't feel any kind of pain or embarrassment.

Where he was truly safe and on his own.

* * *

Ellen sat down at the table, holding her mug of coffee in one hand and a sheet of paper in the other one. She sighed deeply and looked up at the three men that were with her. Then she put the mug down.

„Concussion. Three cracked ribs. - Lacerations … a whole lot of old scars and new once. Nothing lethal as far as I can tell. He's starved and dehydrated. - I'd say he's about twenty-six years old. His teeth are okay as far as I can tell. His temperature is a little bit high – maybe because one of the gashes on his back is infected." She took a breath. „His ears are okay as far as I can tell." She looked at Dean. „He sure hears you – he's maybe just too wrapped up in his own world to can follow what you're sayin'." She paused again and sighed. „I'd say you let him rest a lot. - But get him up twice a day to walk around a bit. - I'll leave you some meds and antiseptic wash-lotion. Maybe you can get him into the tub." She frowned, looking at the three of them, who hung on every word that left her lips. „Other than that … i can't tell you anything about his mental state except the obvious."

Dean nodded, making a checklist in his mind. „What can we do about his feet. - I mean …"

Ellen nodded. „The scar tissues. - I know. You can use marigold salve to keep the skin soft and tender. - It's going to ease the tension and it's going to hurt less … or even stop hurting after a while."

Dean nodded understanding. „There's no chance you got the salve with you too?" He gazed at her full of hope.

She shook her head and chuckled. „I'm no wandering drugstore, hon." She took a sip from her coffee. „So you're planning on keeping him here for a while by the looks of it ..."

Bobby brushed over his beard. John leaned back in his chair, scooping down a bit and Dean held her gaze as her look shifted towards him. - Determination in his eyes. „Yeah – he's going to stay for a while."

Ellen grinned. „Fine. - I don't think a hospital or mental ward would be the right place for him anyway." She sniffed, looking into the ingredients of her mug. „I'll leave you antibiotics too. - If he should start to cough, start with them. Twice a day with a lot of fluids. - We don't want him to develop pneumonia or something."

Dean nodded again.

„You guys should start off with light meals. Boiled vegetables and chicken, rice, potatoes … that kinda things. - Try and get as much fluids into him as possible. Other than that … i guess the three of you will be able to handle the situation." She grinned at Dean, catching his gaze. „Never thought you'd fall for a human, kid."

He glared at her in respond. „I'm not a kid anymore. - I'm thirty. Besides … I am not falling for him. He's my mate. A fact I can hardly change – obviously." With that he jumped up, pissed as hell within a second. „I'd have chosen a werewolf if it would've been on me. - But sadly I'll stuck with a human nutcase in this."

Leaving three stuttered pack-members behind, he got back into his bedroom – where the human was fast asleep again. Dean's eyes glistened with rage and sorrow. He didn't mean to say the things he had. And even when he said he would've chosen someone else as mate. Deep down he knew he didn't want to change it. In an oddly wise he was pretty cool with the fact of how Sam was and WHAT he was. And somehow it didn't really matter tha the was a nutcase either …

Maybe it were just his Winchester genes that had made him say that. Maybe because he wasn't used to show his soft core to others. At least not to the three outside, to whom he had always been the master of cockiness.

Dean went to his closet and put on fresh pyjama bottoms. With a sigh he crawled on the bed, settling on the free space beside the human and crawled under the covers. He watched the human male sleep silently, as the last sunbeams danced on his pale cheek. He saw the dried moisture of tears and the way he pressed his arms against his torso.

Tomorrow would be a new day with new tasks. Trying to get the human into the bathtub and walk around a little bit more. Maybe trying to get him used to Bobby and John at some point.

… _... to be continued_

* * *

  
  


** Of Werewolves And Humans **

** Chapter 6 ~ Warming Up **

THEN:

_Tomorrow would be a new day with new tasks. Trying to get the human into the bathtub and walk_ _around a little bit more. Maybe trying to get him used to Bobby and John at some point._

* * *

NOW:

It was in the middle of the night when he woke to an agonized cry that promised pain and despair. Wasn't he supposed to sense any kind of danger? Wasn't he supposed to know what would happen before it actually did?

A growl and rumble followed and Dean sat up, his wolf-eyes taking in the surroundings. His nostrils flaring as he tried to scent whatever threat was around.

Another bone-shattering cry and he knew that there wasn't any threat at all. - At least nothing palpable. The only threat that was there was Sam as he actually seemed to be a threat to himself. Tossing and throwing around, until he lay still for a couple of moments, whimpering gut-twisting and heart-shattering.

Dean got on his knees – not exactly knowing what to do … like always when it came to _humans_. But this was HIS human. He had to know what to do, had to sense what his mate needed right there.

At least he had to prevent him from hurting himself somehow. Had to get him to calm down – at least a bit.

„Sam?", he asked hoarsely, his senses dazed from sleepiness.

The man's face was screwed up in pain and distress and he wouldn't respond to him.

Dean bowed down over him, his hands to the left and right side of the human's head, pressing into the pillow.

„Wake up, Sam.", he muttered half asleep. „It's okay." He laid a hand on Sam's head and brushed gently with his thump over his cheekbone. „It's just a dream. - Just a dream."

But he wouldn't listen. Instead his body arched up with another agonized yell. He was begging for mercy, for forgiveness of whatever he must've done wrong. Sam nearly threw the other male off of him in the process of fighting his invisible foe.

„Damn it.", Dean hissed as he caught his balance again.

He straddled the human under him, pinning him into the soft mattress with his body, catching his limbs forcefully. He lowered his head, until his lips were close to Sam's ear – nearly touching, shushing him, telling him that it was alright, that there was nothing he had to be afraid of anymore (though Dean wasn't completely sure of THAT yet, because something told him that it wasn't quite over).

The door to their bedroom opened slowly and a sleepy John lurked inside.

„It's okay dad. - Go back to sleep.", Dean said, without turning around. „I got this."

The older Winchester brushed over his face with a hand and yawned. „You sure, Dean?"

„Yeah. - We're okay.", Dean muttered, resting his forehead on the pillow beside Sam's head. „We're okay.", he tried to reassure himself calmly.

Finally the murmurs subsided and the body beneath him went limp. The human was panting heavily, his clothes soaked in sweat, muscles hard, as his eyes snapped open.

Sam felt the heavy weight of another body, pressing him gently into the mattress. Legs and arms straddled – and _oh god_ … his ribs hurt as hell.

„I'm sorry.", he choked out, „I'm sorry, sir."

„It's okay." Dean whispered huskily, wrapping his arms around the man and turning the both of them carefully to the side. He let the human enough space and kept his hold light, so that Sam could decide, wherever to stay or to get away from him. But against Dean's supposition he stayed. Sam let himself being held by the wolf, let himself being tugged closer. He eventually nestled into Dean's body, keeping his arms and hands between them.

A small smile tugged on Dean's lips as Sam's breaths started to even out again and the human nestled into his chest, shifting and moving until he seemed to be comfortable enough. Sam just let his mind yell at him for being stupid to do so. He let more space in his head and heart for the tiny voice that tried to tell him that it was okay. That he was allowed to feel save and that he was allowed to take the offered comfort without questioning it.

He ignored the doubts that were nagging at him in the back of his mind. Because _this_ felt good. _This_ felt real. And because he started to get comfortable with the man around him. Because he hadn't even once rose his voice against him, nor had he tried and punch or kick him – even when he was a slouch.

These thoughts let him fall back into a grateful slumber, followed by Dean Winchester drifting off to sleep again too.

* * *

The next morning came way too fast for the younger Winchester.

The air in the room was chilly. Even when he didn't care, the human would. He'd be freezing. So he untangled his arms and slipped out of the bed, throwing another blanket over the sleeping male, before he left.

His father and Bobby seemed to be still asleep. Besides, it wasn't that late anyway. Just half past seven in the morning. So he sniffed on himself and grimaced disgusted. _He stunk._ Dean sniffed again, his gut twisting at the smell of cold sweat.

Yeah he'd take a shower. - But first he had to get the fireplace going, so it would be warm and comfortable later, when he'd try to get Sam into the bathtub. Dean got logs from the porch and picked up one of the old newspapers from a tray beside the door. Then he made fire and made sure it burned well, before he went back into the bedroom. Silently and carefully not to wake the human before he was done with himself.

He slipped out of the room with a fresh set of clothes, leaving the door wide open so that the warmth would crawl into the other room too.

Dean stood under the spray of hot water. The comfortable warmth crawling into his skin, as he rinsed the shampoo out of his hair – thinking. Thinking if every night would be that way from now on, or if Sam's nightmares would go away at some point. Maybe if the human felt truly save some day – maybe then he'd stop having them.

When he was done he noticed that Bobby was awake already. He was camping on the couch since the Winchesters just had two bedrooms. Actually – Dean should've moved out already to leave more space to his father. He wanted to build up his own life, with an own cabin close to his father's. They would still be a pack, just not living in each other's pockets. Besides, his father seemed to do way better. There haven't been any days in the past month, where he hadn't been able to get out of bed by himself.

As weird as it may sounded. Ever since this damn car had hit him in the middle of the night, leaving a half-dead werewolf on the side of the road, he had been in pain. That was now one year ago and John had improved very well.

Sure werewolves had incredible self-healing-abilities. But even a werewolf wasn't unbreakable and even a werewolf was able to get injured – not just by a silver bullet. John had been unconscious. And while he was that way, his broken unset bones healed.

So when Dean had found him, they had to break his bones – at least the once in his left leg – all over again to set them right and let them heal all over again. His spinal cord had been injured badly and some of his vertebrae had been broken. That was something his father still felt – something that hurt as hell from time to time.

Anyways.

Bobby had put another couple of logs into the fire and busied himself in the kitchen with breakfast. Yeah, even werewolves had to eat usual food. At least the ones that were born that way. It was enough to hunt every couple of weeks for fresh meat. Although most of them didn't hunt anymore – that was what butchers were for nowadays.

So the Winchesters and Bobby hunted from time to time – just for fun. Or took the cattle the farmers around left on the field for them. - Actually always about the new moon.

„You gotta be hungry as hell, boy.", Bobby muttered sleepily, as he sensed him entering the kitchen.

„Starving." Dean groaned and sat down at the table, watching the older man.

„Figured. - You gotta need to watch out for yourself.", Bobby muttered and placed a bile of bacon and scrambled eggs on a plate. „Keep ya' strength up."

Dean nodded gratefully, as the older man placed the plate in front of him with a mug of coffee. „Thanks."

„Don't mention it.", he smiled and sat down on the other end of the small table. „I'm gonna head back to the Salvage. - Have to finish up some cars or our clients are gonna kill me anytime soon."

Dean looked up, a stripe of bacon in his hand. „I'd come around in the afternoon, after lunch? - If that's okay?" He eyed Bobby closely. „I know we had a deal and you're paying me more than you'd have to … so …"

„Afternoon it is, son. - Caleb and Ash said they've everything under control.", Bobby mentioned and glared at his coffee.

Dean just rolled his eyes. „We can be glad when the garage is still standing, Bobby."

The older man chuckled amused, gulping down his coffee. „Yeah well … Ash ain't a big mechanic."

The younger one's grin widened. „But he's getting us the best deals."

* * *

Later that morning – Bobby was already gone – Dean had made up a plate with chopped fruits and brought them into the bedroom, placing them on the nightstand, including two glasses of milk. Then he left again, leaving the man some privacy. An hour later the plate was empty and the glasses too. Another win for the wolf – at least he figured.

He sat down beside Sam, earning a flinch as he laid a hand on the curled up figure under the blankets.

Dean cleared his throat. „I'd like you to take a bath." He waited for a moment after he had spoken. „To get you all cleaned up and to put fresh bandages on your wounds."

Sam's lips formed into a hard line, biting his lower lip. He turned onto his back, stretched out a little bit. Not looking at Dean.

„But first you've to take something for me." Dean had nearly forgotten about the painkillers Ellen had left for the human.

„Yes sir.", Sam muttered, his voice still hoarse from sleep and strained from crying.

The wolf tipped gently Sam's head up, challenging him to catch his gaze. He wouldn't let him look anywhere else, until he had the man's full attention. They stayed like that for a while – their gazes locked - before Dean continued: „Ellen said you should walk around twice a day. Though I don't want you to pass out on me in the tub. - So I figured I'll carry you into the bathroom" He smiled reassuring.

Sam blinked up at him, a slight frown building on his forehead. Big hazel-eyes watching him warily.

„Sure, sir.", he gave back moments later.

Dean nodded and pulled the blankets back. Then he slipped his arms under the man and lifted him up. „It'd be easier if you'd hold onto me, Sam.", he muttered and shifted him a little bit.

The human winced and groaned silently when the wolf did so. He laid his left arm hesitantly around Dean's neck.

„That's good." The younger Winchester praised him in a whisper and made his way towards the bathroom. In the room he let Sam back on his feet in front of the toilet bowl where he sat down, obviously waiting for new orders.

Dean took a deep breath. He might was a werewolf and had these awesome abilities no human had – though it wasn't like he was superman at all. So yeah, even for him it was kind of straining to carry a sasquatch around.

He turned around and twisted on the knobs of the tub until he thought the water had the right temperature for Sam. Then he turned back, eying him for a moment.

„It's gonna need a while before it's full." He sighed and took a glass from the small cupboard on the wall. Then he pulled two white small pills from his pocket and held them in front of Sam.

Sam eyed them curiously while Dean filled some cool water into the glass.

„Just the painkillers. - Like I told you before. - Nothing dangerous." He explained with a smile on his lips.

Sam took them and emptied the glass of water, eying the bathtub curiously, before he stole a glance at the man's face. Something told him to trust the man. Something deep inside him told him, that he was different from the others. But his mind wouldn't let him believe it just yet. His mind yelled at him that this man was like all the others before. That he'd hurt him sooner or later.

„You know you can talk to me, Sam." He still smiled. „I'm not gonna bite." He chuckled and shook his head. „And you really shouldn't call me _sir_."

Sam stole another glance at him, trying to figure out why the man tried to be nice to him. What sense did it make when he'd treat him so very different when he was all better again. Sam wasn't a fool. He knew these people did things that weren't quiet logic.

Maybe because they had paid for him. - The worst thing was that there were three of them. _Three_. This couldn't be good. And he knew he wouldn't come out there alive – and maybe that was a good thing after all. After all he had endured he figured that dying wasn't the worst thing that could happen to him – there were way more cruel things.

„Ready?", Dean tore him out of his thoughts, his eyebrows furrowed, as he put some of the antiseptic wash-lotion into the water.

Sam nodded.

„Good. - I'll leave you to it. Do what you have to do. - I'll come back to you in about half an hour or so. Just take your time." The man still smiled at him as he stole another glance at his face and bright green eyes.

So Sam did what he had to do – his business. And then started slowly to undress himself. Wincing or biting back the groans when he bowed forward and dizziness dared to make him to topple over. Finally he had managed to get naked.

He didn't know how exactly he was supposed to get into the tub. At least not with the dizziness and his sore body. Sam pulled the bandage from his upper thigh off. It didn't look as bad. He have had worse. Then he glanced over his shoulder into the mirror, spotting tow other bandages, wich he removed gingerly.

Then he drew his attention back at the tub, frowning at the steaming water in it. He bowed forward to tip his finger into the water and check the temperature when everything around him started to spin and darkness caught him in the very next moment.

He felt as he hit his head on something hard and a low thump as he heard himself hitting the cold tiles.

And then all his senses failed …

… _. to be continued_

* * *

  
  


** Of Werewolves And Humans **

** Chapter 7 ~ It Hurts **

THEN:

_Then he drew his attention back at the tub, frowning at the steaming water in it. He bowed forward to tip his finger into the water and check the temperature when everything around him started to spin and darkness caught him in the very next moment._

_He felt as he hit his head on something hard and a low thump as he heard himself hitting the cold tiles._

_And then all his senses failed …_

* * *

NOW:

Dean bolted up from the couch, the remote control falling from his hands and hit the wooden floor, shattering at the unlucky impact. He had thought it'd be better to let Sam doing that kind of stuff on his own. But obviously he had been wrong. He knew that as soon as he heard the muffled thump from inside the bathroom.

Dean threw the door open, his gaze falling on the unconscious human on the floor. A big goose egg was already forming over his right eyebrow and a small cut that bled like crazy right below it. Dean hurried to his side and kneeled down, listening to his heartbeat, his breathing.

The younger Winchester hissed as he brushed the dark bangs out of Sam's face. „Damn it." He cursed and shook his head. He should've known. Next time he wouldn't leave him on his own – private space or not, he didn't care.

Sam's eyes fluttered open again moments later, groaning in discomfort. The fact that he was supposed to take a bath flashed thru his mind. He remembered that he had half an hour for it. Remembered that the man had to be back soon, since he didn't know how long he had been out.

He sat up with a start, the world started to spin again and he felt the bump on his forehead as he touched his head with a hiss. That was when he realized that the man was already there. Was kneeling beside him. Was looking at him. _... He was too late._

He sucked in a deep breath, that tore on his aboused ribs and his back.

The next thing he realized was, that he was naked. NAKED.

Panic rose in him. He was too late. He had lost conciousness and had missed the damn bath. Hadn't been done in time with what he should've been doing. Sam wrapped his fingers around his head, shielding his face from the blows that might come. _But they didn't._ Instead he felt gentle hands on his, guiding them down slowly.

Big concerned emerald-green eyes looked at him, eying the small gash short above his eyebrow. There was no hate, no anger, no rage in those eyes. Just concern and sorrow and compassion.

But what would _he_ feel sorry for? It was Sam, who had toppled over. Him who was too late. Who hadn't done what he was supposed to do in the him offered amount of time.

„You still wanna take a bath?", Dean asked trying not to show his concern and shock about how Sam was acting. _So frightened. So terrified._

Sam nodded. Sure he wanted to – _he had to_. He smelled awful and who knew when he was allowed to get a bath again?

„Okay. - But I'll help you this time. I'll stay here with you until you're done." Dean frowned, holding onto the other male's gaze.

Sam nodded again. It wasn't like he trusted him. The hell he did. He just KNEW that he hadn't a say in whatever the man wanted. And if he wanted to take a bath than he had to play along the man's rules.

Dean helped Sam to his feet and into the bathtub, helped him to hold his balance until he was settled in the lukewarm water. Dean then grabbed a towel and made a roll out of it, putting it between Sam's neck and the bathtub, so it was more comfortable.

„Just relax." Dean whispered and reached for the sponge John had brought along with all the clothes. What hadn't been a bad idea at all, as it dawned to him now. „I'll take care of you."

Before he started, he cleaned Sam's newest wound with a washcloth – ever so gently. It wouldn't need stitches at all.

Sam eyed him warily, his breath hitched as the man rolled up his sleeves and dipped the sponge into the water. _I'll take care of you_ … how many times had he heard that words already? - And never in a good way. EVER.

He sniffed and followed every move of the man made, ready to draw back into his mind at any given moment. His mind told him to run - tpo get out of the freaking tub and run. But he knew he wouldn't get far. Probably he wouldn't even be able to leave the tub on his own.

But his instincts told him something different. Told him to rely on the man. Try to trust him, letting him taking care of him. His instincts told him not to be afraid, not to be scared.

Dean brushed with the sponge over Sam's face, squeezing it out over his head to wet his hair. He followed the curve of Sam's neck and shoulder, feeling the young man tense. Sam held the edge of the tub in a death grip. His knuckles turning white.

„Is the water warm enough?", Dean asked, trying to distract him a little.

„Yes Sir.", Sam answered, his look directed at every very move the man did with the sponge.

„Is it too hot?" Dean glanced up at him.

Sam shook his head. „No, sir."

Dean frowned and stilled. „Would you even tell me if it was?", he then asked, slowly but surely getting a feeling for how Sam ticked.

That was a trick question – _definitely_. So he just did as he wasn't understanding the man's question properly and tilted his head to the side and looked away. He was torn between telling the truth and pleasing the man.

„I would, sir.", he then answered, the lie written all over his face.

Besides Dean was able to literally _smell_ it. _Hear_ it in the way he had given the answer. He sighed and continued with the task at hand. He couldn't blame him. Not even a bit. What he must've been thru … he could just imagine how the human had to feel.

When he was done, Dean dropped the sponge into the water and settled down on the edge of it, looking everywhere but Sam's body. He let one of his fingers hang into the water, so he would feel when it would be getting too cold, since he figured Sam wouldn't tell him and rather freeze his ass off than mentioning it.

When the water started to feel chilly against the wolf's skin he stood up and snatched two of the big towels from the retainer.

„I think it's time to get you out.", Dean said, trying to look Sam in the face and nowhere else as he unfolded the towel.

Sam did what he'd been told – of course - and got out of the cool water. Standing there bare-ass-naked and dripping wet, waiting. He held his hands crossed in front of his private parts, to at least hide a little of his body from the man's few.

Dean sighed and threw the towel over the taller man's shoulders, handing him the other one. „There you go. - Dry off."

Sam nodded, muttering a tired „ _Yes, sir_ " and started to dry himself off without bowing down too much.

As the dizziness came back, he dared to topple over once more, but this time, Dean was there, stopping his fall.

„Wow … - Hey there, tiger." Dean frowned and led him back to the toilet, grabbing the towel from his bony fingers. „You gotta tell me when you can't do something.", he sounded angrier than he wanted to and pushed him down on the bowl.

The man flinched at the harsh spoken words. Tears welling up in his eyes – Sam couldn't control it, couldn't stop them. He didn't want to cry, didn't want to look pathetic. But he did, and it was a shame. For him, for his family, for everyone who had ever owned him and would own him in the future. (If he'd live that long)

„Hey … i didn't want to … I'm sorry, _Sammy_." Dean frowned, shook his head and squat down before him, running his fingers thru Sam's wet hair, brushing it out of his face. „It's just – I'm scared you're gonna hurt yourself." He sighed and lowered his gaze for a moment. „I just don't want you to get hurt, okay?"

Sam nodded. - He knew _why_. Because they could possibly kill him and that would mean a whole less fun than this was probably supposed to get.

„So, when you're dizzy, or in pain. Let me know. - I'd like to know things like that. It's important to me. Isn't it to you?" Big green eyes locked their gaze with hazel-green ones once again.

Sam nodded, but didn't say anything. He didn't know how to answer. No one had ever asked him seriously what he thought. What he wanted to do, or what he doesn't wanted. At least not since his mother had died.

„Do you understand me?", he asked, keeping his voice low and soft.

Sam nodded again. „Yes, sir.", he said silently.

„Fine. - So … are you hurting?", Dean asked.

Sam nodded.

Dean sighed – kind of relieved. Maybe they were making progress. „Where are you hurtin'?"

Sam dropped his gaze to the floor. What was he supposed to say? Was it even worth of mentioning it? Maybe it would've been better if he'd said he was fine, like he was supposed to do.

„What hurts?", Dean asked again. - He wouldn't back off, not that easy. Not yet. _Not ever._

„Everywhere, sir.", he muttered in respond.

„Okay. - We're gettin' you dressed and then you go back to bed. - Try to rest and sleep." Dean watched him closely, saw the shame creeping up Sam's face. „Do the painkillers work? Is it any better?"

Sam nodded. „It does feel better, Sir."

Dean nodded – again more relieved than before. „Fine."

He grabbed the fresh clothes from the retainer and the bandages. Then he covered his wounds with the dressings and helped Sam getting dressed. Then he led him out of the bathroom, this time he let him walk. Still it was more like carrying him, since Dean took most of the taller man's weight.

„Good morning, boys." John yawned, strolling past them towards the kitchen, without looking up. He was limping again, what meant his leg was making problems. Dean frowned at his father, but didn't say anything. He'd have time for that later. Now he had to get the human back into bed.

„You're doin' good, Sam." Dean smiled at him as they reached the bedroom.

It haven't gotten a lot warmer in there. They might need a heater for it, if the weather would get worse. Besides: They had to get some supplies in case the weather would truly get worse and they would get snowed in like last year. But this time they had a human with them. - Humans wasn't used to raw flesh, clingy cold (for more than a couple of hours) and no electricity and water. - Maybe they needed to go to Bobby's, since they wouldn't even have water from the pipe then.

He threw the comforter and blankets back, letting the young man sit down on the edge of the bed. Then he let him crawl in and settled behind him.

Sam shivered and sniffed. Yeah it was cold in the room and it'd last at least until noon til the warmth would creep in there. Dean threw the comforter over the both of them, pulling it high up until just their heads lurked out.

„I'll stay until you're warmed up again. - I've to get to the salvage after lunch, help Bobby with some things." He cleared his throat. „But I'll be back tonight." He didn't know what difference it made to tell Sam. - He just did. Maybe if he'd explain things to him, he'd feel more comfortable. Maybe Sam just pretended not to hear him - as Ellen had said. Maybe he was listening though. „Dad's gonna stay with you in the cabin. - He's gonna look out for you. So if you need something … just holler and he'll be there."

Dean felt Sam's cold toes brushing against his legs as he curled up. Snuggling into the pillow and inching closer to the warming body behind him.

A comfortable noise fell from Sam's lips and his body relaxed fully as he drifted off into a peaceful slumber.

* * *

When Dean was sure that the human was out for the count, he left him, leaving the door into the room open. He went to his father into the kitchen and sat down with a sigh, rubbing over his head.

John poured himself some coffee into a mug and went to the table to sit opposite of his son. He stared at him for a long time.

„You know ...", John started, obviously uncomfortable, „... just because he's your mate doesn't mean that he has to stay with you. - Everyone would understand if you wouldn't want to."He cleared his throat. „It's not like you knew him before. - You're not shunting him out of the way."

Dean glared at him. „Why would I do that?", his voice remained impassive.

John shrugged. „I just thought. - The way you were talking yesterday ..." He looked up from his mug to face his son. „Ellen would know someone who'd take care of him. You could visit him if you'd like to. - He'd get the care he needs there."

Dean added a cocked eyebrow to his glare and shook his head – huffing. „No way.", he muttered. „There's a reason WHY he's my responsibility. WHY we found him there. WHY I chose him and not another one." he cleared his throat. „I'm not sayin' that I believe in destiny. But at some point I think that everything has its reasons."

John just nodded. Something like pride rising in his eyes.

„You're going to help Bobby out today?" _Yeah, change of topic_. Very Winchester-like.

Dean nodded. „I have to .. you know …" He glanced over his shoulder towards his bedroom. „You think you can handle him for a couple of hours? On your own?" Dean frowned. „You know – just getting him something to eat and drink. No biggies. Figured I'll be back home earlier if I'd drive before lunch-time." Dean bit his lower lip – thinking.

„You sure it's a good idea to leave now?" John said concerned. „I'm sure Bobby'd understand."

The younger Winchester rubbed over his mouth – still thinking. _He knew that._

„I know." He sighed pensively. „But i can't leave him hangin'. - He's behind with the repairs already."

John nodded understanding. „You know he won't trust me."

„He doesn't trust me either." Dean looked up at his father's dark eyes, well noticing that he wasn't quite himself today.

„But he _knows_ you." The older man gave back.

„That's true." Well, Dean couldn't say anything against it.

Silence.

A small smile tugged on John's lips. „I could do your job. - Until Sam's better?"

„With your bad leg?", Dean asked, his eyebrows cocked.

John just sighed and dropped his gaze.

„Thought so." His son leaned back in the chair. „I know it's a lot to ask for at the moment."

His dad chuckled. „Nah – I got that. - How hard can it possibly be to take care of a human anyway?. - He won't do much else as eating and sleeping probably."

Dean snorted. „He's not a baby."

It should work out more difficult as John Winchester had figured.

* * *

A police car drove down the yard of Robert Singer's Salvage and parked in front of the garage, where Ash and Dean were working on an old Buick. Both were bowed over the open hood, hands dirty from oil and dust.

Dean looked up long before Sheriff Mills' vehicle pulled up in front of them, his senses strained. Something in him tensed, but he relaxed again as he spotted that it was the sheriff and not one of her deputies, since he hardly trusted them. Jody Mills on the other hand was one hell of a woman. Sure older than him and kind of a motherly type too. Even towards him. Even when he wasn't even human. She looked at him as he was just a human Dean Winchester and not the dangerous animal that slumbered within him.

The engine of the ford died and the door opened slowly. Sheriff Mills tipped her police-cap up and walked over to the both men under the hood. Her facial expression not as relaxed and friendly as usual. Sheriff Mills was hiding something – he saw it in her eyes and the way she curled her lips up into a fake-smile.

Dean Winchester figured he would play along whatever might come. So he left the hugging aside and straightened up as she arrived beside them.

„Good morning, Ash. - Dean." Her eyes wore something pleading, hidden behind bright brown circles.

„Good morning, Sheriff.", Ash greeted her and looked up for a moment before he continued to screw around on the engine.

Dean just nodded his welcome. Their looks locked.

„My car's making funny noises.", she said then, shifting her weight on the other leg. „Some kind of rattling when I push the gas pedal." Her look was challenging and a flicker of anticipation crossed her face. „Would you take a look at it?"

Dean nodded. „Drive it in the garage?"

She nodded back.

„I'll be there in ten.", he said then, rubbing his hands into a filthy rag. „I'll go and get the boss."

 _Twelve minutes and thirty-three seconds later …_ Bobby and Dean went into the garage. Sheriff Mills was already waiting for them, leaning against the side of the ford. She looked up as the both came thru the metal door.

„I feel spied on.", she said, pushing away from the car, her hands burying in the pockets of her olive-green jacket. „Someone's watching me … I'm sure."

Both men frowned at her. „You sure?", Bobby asked frowning.

„Sure I'm sure." The Sheriff grimaced. „Ever since we went into the damn club."

Dean nodded to himself. „As far as I can tell, we're not … spied on." He bit his lower lip – thinking. Maybe it hadn't been such a good idea to leave his father and the human alone in the cabin. On the other hand: His father was a _werewolf_. He would know how to defend the both of them when it came to it. „You found out something? - About the owner?"

She shook her head with a sigh. „No. - I didn't. Actually … no one of the men – the human ones – were talking. And this morning?" She frowned, her lips pressed into a thin line. „This morning they were all dead. - They should've been transported into the county prison after their questionings ..."

The men looked at each other and then at the sheriff. „Weird." Dean rubbed his forehead and pinched the bridge of his nose pensively. „How did they die?"

She huffed and shook her head. „We don't know. - Looks like they dropped dead. The coroner got them and they're at our morgue right now. - We've requested an authopsy on the corpses."

„Balls." Bobby cursed silently. „You think there's more about it than just a couple of sick men? - I mean … what else could be behind it?"

She shrugged. „I don't know. - I guess it's going to last another couple of days until I'll pass by in the cabin to question the survivor. - How's he doing?"

Dean sniffed. „As good as the circumstances are … He's still hurting and his mental state … well … You gotta have a look at him, make your own picture."

She nodded. „Then I'll pass by on friday to get my car checked up again." She smiled. „Great mechanics. - There's nothing rattling anymore." She cocked an eyebrow, grinning slyly.

Both men gave her a nod.

* * *

Dean pulled the Impala up in front of the cabin. Night had already settled over the words. The cabin seemed silent. No lights were on. Werewolves wouldn't need them anyway. - _But humans did._

Second: Dean didn't sense any movements in the house, though as he sniffed in the cool air, he didn't smell any uncommon scents.

The youngest of the pack got out of the Impala, eying the house before him closely. His movement changed th closer he got to the porch and the door. The expression on his face morphed into something that could just be called predator-like.

He shouldn't have left Sam. Shouldn't have let him with someone Sam didn't even had the chance to have a talk with. Except from the room in the club. And all over this he had spent longer at the salvage as he should have. Guilt settled in his chest and crawled up its way into his throat, where it built a heavy lump. A lump so big he could barely breathe.

Dean entered the house silently. It was warm there, there were fresh logs in the fireplace and the door to his bedroom stood wide open. He closed the door behind him gingerly and tiptoed towards his room.

Then he stopped as he reached the threshold, lurking at the bed. There was a giant something on the bed, and Dean heard two heartbeats. Smelled John and Sam. - Other than that he sensed nothing. And some of the tension fell away, his features softened.

Something moved on the bed and he heard a silent comfortable sound coming from there. So he straightened up and moved forward carefully, not to step on one of the loosen floorboards. On the end of the bed he stopped, eying the both male beings and frowned.

Whatever reason his father have had to change … it obviously seemed to be completely okay with Sam. - And guilt got exchanged with envy, as he saw that the wolf was laying with his back to the human. Though the human had snuggled into the long fur, one hand thrown over the wolf's ribcage.

A low rumble erupted from Dean's throat. He was _HIS_.

The wolf stirred and a pair of dark green-brown eyes got visible, looking towards the door. The wolf lifted his head further, eying his son for a moment before he slipped from the bed and strolled past Dean and out of the room without even looking at him.

He followed the wolf, who had regained his human figure as soon as they entered the kitchen. John's body covered by a towel from the waist downwards.

„What the hell?", Dean tried to keep his flaring rage under control. - Because that's what it was. Sam was HIS. HIS mate, HIS responsibility, HIS nutcase, HIS everything. What also included that he was HIS and HIS alone. No one else beside him was meant to be allowed to be that close to him.

„Don't ' _what the hell_ ' me, son.", his father growled back. „You gave him into my hands as soon as you left the cabin." John ran his fingers thru his salt and pepper hair. „He didn't eat, but he drunk. AND he had some sort of nightmare. - He freaked out. I freaked out. We both freaked out. So since i figured I wouldn't do him any good in my human form I changed. He sure as hell likes dogs a lot more than humans. At least he's not afraid of them."

Dean huffed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He knew his father was right and he trusted him. Trusted him more than anyone else beside Bobby and Ellen .

„I did some research on him." John yawned. „And dinner is in the fridge. - Made steak with potatoe-wedges."

A grin tugged on the edges of Dean's lips. „Steak?"

John grinned back and pulled the open laptop over, placing it in front of his son. „You read. - I'll get your food ready. You look like you could use some meat."

Dean nodded gratefully and eyed the screen. Old police records from Lawrence, Kansas. He stared at the screen confused, then looked up. „That's where we used to live when I was a kid."

„Yeah." John took a plate with a giant bloody steak out of the fridge. „Go on reading. - Might as well there'll ring a bell."

Dean frowned and tore his look back at the screen, starting to read. The further he went thru the records and the articles of the newspapers from before thirteen years, the harder the lines on his face got, the more concentrated his look became.

John laid the steak into the hot pan, heating up the wedges and vegetables in the microwave.

„Wait – you think Sam's the chubby thirteen year old that disappeared all these years ago?" Dean stared at his father in disbelieve and saw him nod.

„Read on.", John said, his voice chilly to the bone with a bitterness around its edges.

Dean did. His face paled the further he got. From another article back at a police report. „But we knew his dad. - He bought the old mustang from the garage you used to work at … He was a nice guy."

„He was a drunk." John put the steak on the plate with the heated up fixings. „William started to drink after Mary died. - He changed – _a lot_. Samuel must've been nine or ten at that time." John's voice remained sober.

„But … I _knew_ Samuel. - We spent some time together after school." Dean frowned, his gaze glued to the screen. Was it possible? After all these years? He remembered the chubby kid. He must've been about seventeen or eighteen. The other kids at school used to pester him, so he had started to pick him up from their house to back him up on his way there and then again when Samuel got out of school for his way home.

It hadn't been for long. Just a couple of months. Then he and his father sold the house and moved away. - And a couple of weeks later the kid had vanished – according to the records. Without a lead first. But according to the police records they arrested his father in evidence of murder. Evidence of _murdering_ his own son.

The school had reported that Samuel Campbell had been missing and that his parents wouldn't call, nor give any informations about Sam's staying away from school. So they sent the child-welfaire to them.

That was when they noticed that their house was abandoned. That it was for sale. That William had taken off without his son's belongings. That was when they caught him two states over in a rusty-brown mustang – all on his own. Without a kid, nor any items that could possibly belong to a teen.

And after that all tracks got cold. The kid had vanished. - Just like that.

„Do you remember why we moved away?", John asked – Dean was able to sense his father's frown – the concern that lingered in his voice. Then he turned around with the plate in one hand and a cool beer int he other one.

Dean tried to remember. Tried hard. Real hard. But it had been THAT time of his live when he started to change. _Felt_ that he started to change. And it was that time, that was more of a blur. Dean had tried to keep his instincts under control, tried to not let them take over control. But he remembered that he had failed. Miserably.

… John had said it was kind of like with human teenagers. - Just that werewolves were a lot more bloodthirsty during these years.

„We moved because I did some stupid things ...", Dean stated concentrated. „I could've hurt someone ..." _… could've hurt Sam._

John chuckled and nodded. Then his features changed into something serious. „You were completely fixed at Samuel Campbell." Sadness swung in his voice. „We had to get away from there. You would've gotten in trouble. And sooner or later hunters would've come for us."

Dean nodded and stared at the screen again. After another moment of staring he closed the notebook and sighed, shoving it away, as his father placed the plate in front of him.

„I had to lock you away for weeks. - You were completely out of it ..." John sat down on a stool at the table, uncapping his own beer. „I should've known …"

The younger Winchester stared at the plate. Suddenly not that hungry anymore. „I wasn't an easy kid, was I?" He smacked his lips, a sad smile on his lips. „So … if he's truly Samuel Campbell. - What happened between he had vanished and two days ago?"

John shrugged. „Just Sam knows probably. - Between: Before William was found dead in his cell, he must've said to another prisoner that he hadn't killed the _little bastard_. He said he sold him to some kind of whoremaster."

Dean frowned, raising an eyebrow at his father. „So you think he was with them ever since?"

John nodded. „Maybe. - Maybe not."

The younger man sniffed at the steak, then eyed the fixings on the side of his plate warily. „Maybe … if we wouldn't have moved away ..." Dean frowned. „Maybe we would've been able to find him … I should've sensed that something was wrong with that family, shouldn't I?"

John shook his head. „You can't change the past. And you couldn't have known. Not in the state you've been in. - Now eat. You gotta be starving, boy."

„And you're supposed to get dressed." Dean grinned at his father. „Not parading around half-naked."

* * *

When Dean was done with eating, he told John about the news from Sheriff Mills and took a shower. He prepared a plate with fruits and a banana-milkshake in the kitchen. He brought the things into the bedroom at the nightstand, his gaze fixed at the human.

His heart rate and deep breaths told him, that Sam was awake. Though he didn't move.

„I brought you something to eat, Sammy.", he said gently and sat down on the edge of the bed.

He heard the younger man sniff.

„Do you have to go to the bathroom?"

That definitely got the human's attention. He turned on his back with a silent wince and nodded. „Yes, sir."

„Fine. - I'll help ya'.", he said gently and tugged the comforter down, remembering himself that he had to switch on the lights for him.

Sam sat up slowly, swaying a little bit in his sitting position. Dean was on his side in an instant and steadied him with a gentle grip on his shoulders.

„Are you hurting?" The younger Winchester frowned.

„No, Sir.", Sam answered mechanically.

 _What a liar …_ Dean thought, shaking his head with a sigh. „Okay, you're gonna take your pills after you've eaten something. - I don't want them to come back up if you don't."

Sam nodded and stood up, letting himself being helped by the older man. They made their way to the bathroom. Dean sat him down on the toilet bowl and left the room then. He waited until he heard the flushing toilet from the inside and he saw the door handle being pushed down.

Together they made their way back into the bedroom, where Dean let Sam sit down on the bed. He stood before him – thinking. Then he laid his hand on Sam's yaw and tipped his head up – gently. He smiled at him. Green eyes looking down warmly at Sam, whose expression remained blank and even a little bit scared.

„Told you. - I want you to look me in the eyes, okay?" Dean kept his voice warm and smooth. „Just like that. - Remember?"

Sam nodded. „Yes sir."

This „Sir" had a bitter undertone for him and made Dean feel uneasy. He wasn't a sir. Hell, he had never been one. He was Dean. _Dean Winchester._ Sam wasn't supposed to call him that.

„And I honestly would prefer if you'd call me _Dean_. OK?"

Sam's eyes searched his face warily and asking at the same time. Sam wasn't used to call anyone by his name. It's always been sir or ma'am. Because there were no names. - All the clients were anonym and faceless to him. Just how a good trained hooker was supposed to see them.

„Okay." Dean sighed. „Lets get some food into you.", he muttered and took the plate from the nightstand, placing it in Sam's lap.

He looked at the plate and then up at the man, then at the plate again.

„You know, Sam. - Mary wouldn't like to see you that way ..." Dean squat down before him, catching the man's gaze. „You'd break your mom's heart."

How could he possibly know? _His mother's name …_

„Do you remember?", he asked, eying Sam closely, seeing the wheels in his mind turning. „You were young, I know. - It's been some years by now." Dean smiled, hope in his eyes. „I braught you to school and home again for a couple of months." _He had to remember …_ „Dean. I'm Dean Winchester, _Sammy_. - Do you remember me?" _…. oh how the kid had hated the nickname._

Sam looked at him confused, tears glistening in his beautiful eyes.

„Sammy?", he asked again, saying the name he was used to call the kid all these years ago. Samuel hated to be called that way, had always corrected him and had this wicked expression on his face when he did so.

But Sam just stared at him in disbelieve.

Dean's face fell. No – He probably didn't remember. „It's okay. - Just … just eat your food, okay?"

How was it even possible? This was Dean? Sure Sam remembered him. One of the less memories he liked to recall. He had been happy back there. Dean had been a friend. His only friend. A damn good friend. - And only maybe he had been more than just a friend for him. He thought to remember about another kind of feelings towards the older man ... bu twasn't quite sure.

The younger Winchester rose, blinking back tears. Usually he wasn't emotionally. Not at all. It was hard to find his soft core and hard to get him to open up. hard to share affection and love and other things like that. He turned around and was about to gain some distance between himself and Sam before he'd break down and would start sobbing – _without a reason._

That was when he felt something tugging on his shirt's hem – kitten-soft. He turned around and saw Sam. Looking up at him, holding him back by his shirt's hem. Then – as soon as he realized what he had done - Sam pulled back, shoving the plate from his lap. It fell to the ground, chopped fruits scattered on the floor. He pulled back, crawling backwards on the bed until he felt the hard surface of the headboard against his back and curled up into himself. He pulled his legs close and buried his face in between them, shielding his head with his hands and arms.

Dean just stood there for a moment, first eying the mess ont he floor and then Sam. A couple of moments passed before he was able to say something – to move.

„It's okay ..." He frowned. Dean went around the bed and crawled onto it, kneeling beside Sam. „It's okay, _Sammy_." Dean laid a hand over his hands, brushing over them carefully. „We can clean it up. Nothing happened. Okay?"

But he wouldn't move – just tremble.

Dean sat down beside him, leaning against the headboard. Then he wrapped an arm around Sam's shoulders and pulled him close, guiding him down until his head laid in his lap. He gently brushed over Sam's fingers, until his grip eased and pulled his arms against his chest again, leaving his face and head exposed.

The younger Winchester ran his fingers thru the long bangs and pulled the comforter over Sam's shivering body with his free hand. „It's okay. - We won't hurt you." He smiled sadly. „I'm going to protect you – I promised. You'll see I keep my promises."

Dean caressed his hair gently, stroke his cheeks and traced his fingertips down Sam's neck along his coronal artery. Some time he stopped to shiver and melted into the gentle embrace and touches. It felt weird to feel the way he felt for the man. It was like all these years ago with the older boy he had spent time for a couple of months. He remembered remember that he liked him. Liked him very much. And this man was so similar to the boy in some ways. The way his voice dropped when he was explaining something. The way his touch felt, when he wrapped his arms around Sam. It was so familiar and though different.

After a long time the man in his lap started to relax and his breaths evened out. His heartbeat slowed down again. It nearly looked like he was asleep, wouldn't it have been for his open eyes.

_…... to be continued_


	4. Chapter 4

** Of Werewolves And Humans **

** Chapter 8 ~ Memories **

THEN:

_After a long time the man in his lap started to relax and his breaths evened out. His heartbeat slowed down again. It nearly looked like he was asleep, wouldn't it have been for his open eyes._

* * *

NOW: 

They stayed like that for a long time. - _Just like that._ Sam laying under the comforter, curled up, his head resting in Dean's lap. Dean stroking over his hair ever so gently, mumbling reassuring things. Hoping that Sam would drift off to sleep sooner or later.

But he didn't. His eyes remained open, staring into nothingness.

„Sam. - I'm going to clean up the floor and get you another plate.", he whispered, resting his hand on Sam's head. „Okay?"

Sam didn't react. Didn't move.

The older Winchester slipped out under the man's head and placed it on a soft pillow. Then he got the paper-towels from the kitchen and cleaned up the floor. Stealing glances at the man on the bed every now and then. When he left the bedroom again, with the chunks of fruits wrapped up in a paper towel, he spotted his father in the kitchen.

„You boys alright in there?", John called out, turning around to see his son.

Dean nodded. „Just an accident. - He skipped the plate, have to get another one."

John watched his son tossing a bunch of paper-towels into the garbage. „You asked him? - If he remembers us?"

Dean nodded again. „I don't know if he does. - But i've the feeling that he remembers me. He held me back for a moment when i wanted to leave – but it didn't last long before he pulled back again." He frowned, biting his lower lip pensively.

John just smiled at his son, seeing the inner fight that was obviously going on. „I guess that's a win. - So … a new plate you said?" And John started to chop fruits, he took from a small basket on the kitchen-counter.

Dean stepped beside his father and started to strip down a banana and a tangerine. With the newly filled plate, he went back into the bedroom, crawling onto the bed beside Sam.

„Look.", Dean whispered. „Got a new one." He smiled as Sam looked up at him sleepily.

Maybe it was truly THE Dean Winchester. Maybe they had really known his mom … then they also knew his _dad_. And when they knew his father, they'd know what a worthless whore he was. What a bad deal they had made with the shifter who had him before.

Sam sat up slowly and leaned back against the headboard of the bed. He watched Dean warily as he placed the plate in his lap again and frowned at it. He looked at Dean and then at the lap again. Sam hesitantly took one of the roughly shaped banana-bits and took it into his mouth. Chewing it slowly, letting the taste caress his tongue and whole mouth.

„There you go." Dean gave him a bright smile and watched him eat, stealing some chunks in between from the tangerine (Sam didn't seem to like them anyway). „If you're eating these I could imagine that a peanutbutter-banana-sandwich wouldn't do you any bad tomorrow then."

Sam stole a glance at him, stuffing a bigger piece of a melon into his mouth.

* * *

_Six days passed …_

… and Sam did better – at least physically. The gashes on his back were healing good, the bruises were fading. He still didn't eat as much as he has been supposed to. He still didn't ask things. He still called Dean „sir". Sam still didn't leave the bedroom. He laid in bed or sat by the window, staring outside.

He was a shadow of himself.

Dean had to think about the thirteen year old a lot lately. He had to think about how bright and sparkling Samuel's eyes had been and about the world's cutest dimples when he had smiled. But _this_ Sam. This Sam wouldn't smile. Not even a little bit.

On the bright side: He started to trust the younger Winchester. Seemed to understand that he would do nothing bad to him. That he wouldn't punish him for „failures".

And Dean told him some of their stories from these couple of months, when they had spent time together. And Sam would listen. - He always listened. But didn't ever say anything.

Sometimes during the nights, Sam curled up against Dean, holding onto his shirt like for dear life. Sometimes he'd bury his face in the younger Winchester's chest so hard, Dean was afraid he'd suffocate himself that way.

When Dean wasn't home and at the Salvage, John kept his eyes on the young human. When he slept he brought food and something to drink. When he was awake, he'd sit or lie beside him in his wolf-shape. John was sure that Sam knew what and _who_ he was. Though he still handled it that way, since the human seemed to be way more comfortable around him like this.

Sheriff Mills had been at the Salvage again, getting her car checked. She had told Bobby that they got the guy that had spied on her – a shifter. He had killed one of the deputies a couple of weeks ago and had taken his place.

That was probably why they had known that there'd be a razzia. - The bad thing about this was, that the shifter knew about the Winchesters. Not about Sam – since it was just Jody who knew about the survivor – but though … it still left an unpleassant feeling behind.

In case that there was still their boss out there, he'd know about them. Knew about the Werewolves that protected the town. Knew where he had to go if he seeked revenge for blowing up their business.

* * *

Sam nestled into the other male's embrace. Warm puffs of air warming the tiny space between him and Dean. He slung an arm around the werewolf's middle and groaned uncomfortably. One of the many signs that his dreams weren't as peaceful as they should've been.

Dean tugged him closer, tightened his hold gently and buried his nose in the dark mop of hair. Drawing in a deep breath thru his nose, taking in the scent of cheep shampoo and Sam.

„You're with me, Sammy.", he muttered hoarsely, not opening his eyes. „You're safe." The younger Winchester brushed upwards on Sam's spine, over his neck and buried his fingers in the younger man's hair, cupping his head's back protectively.

Sam shifted, laying the right side of his head against Dean's chest, feeling the calming rise and fall of his ribcage, the gentle thumps of his heart. Dean pulled the comforter up, over Sam's shoulders and neck, so that just a roughed up mop of hair was visible anymore. Shielding him from the clinging cold.

The youngest among the werewolves glanced at the watch on his wrist with one eye open and growled silently. It was short past six in the morning and still dark. Very soon it'd be snowing like crazy. Soon they'd have to get settled on the Salvage – He had already talked to Bobby.

John had agreed to go with them, since it seemed like he didn't want to stroll around on his own anymore. - At least not like he had loved to years ago.

Now was the only thing they had to get cleared up was HOW they were supposed to go there. Sam hardly left the room. Except he had to visit the toilet. Other than that he started to panic every time, Dean tried to lure him outside.

Dean heard the human's heartbeat quicken a little and felt him stir. „We don't have to get up yet.", he muttered silently. „I don't have to be anywhere today."

Sam rubbed his nose against Dean's chest and sniffed. His throat was tingly and he couldn't hold back a cough. The younger Winchester kept his eyes closed but frowned as he heard the raspy sound Sam made as he cleared his throat. - The last thing they needed that he'd get sick.

A shiver tore down Sam's spine and let him shake for a moment. Then he inched even close (if possible) and pressed himself into the other man, making a happy noise.

* * *

As Sam had fallen asleep again (what haven't last long), Dean got up from the bed, pulling two blankets over the comforter to keep Sam warm. He got a bile of logs from the porch and made fire in the fireplace in the living room and started to prepare everything for breakfast, since Bobby said he'd come by this morning … to have a look at their mental case.

Dean prepared the batter for pancakes and chopped some strawberries, since Sam seemed to like them a lot. Then he took an extra long shower and got himself fresh clothes. While getting dressed, he switched the coffee machine on.

And when he was done with all of this he went back into the bedroom, crawling under the covers again and gathered the humans in his arms with exquisite tenderness. Sam nestled immediately into his chest, giving a low purring noise of comfort.

Dean smiled satisfied and placed a gentle kiss on Sam's head, brushing long bangs back behind his ear. Sam high likely didn't trust him yet – at least not enough. But he obviously wasn't that afraid of Dean anymore. What had to count as a win.

* * *

The delicious scent of bacon lured Dean out of his light slumber. Slowly he blinked his eyes open, tightening his hold around Sam for a moment, as if his mind needed the reassurance that he was where he belonged. _Right beside him_.

Sam blew out a long-drawn breath and yawned, rubbing the side of his face on Dean's chest. He sniffed – again.

The younger Winchester frowned. Ellen had said he would have to give him the antibiotics if he started to cough. - Probably today it'd be time for, since Sam still didn't inhale deep enough because of his cracked ribs. Pneumonia was the last thing the human needed right now. - Not on top of everything else.

„You feelin' okay?", he asked hoarsely and fondled Sam's hair.

„Yes, sir.", he answered and blinked up at the other man with big eyes. His voice was slightly raspy.

„Fine." … well he didn't believe him anyway. „Figured we should get some fresh air after the breakfast, huh?"

„Yes sir.", Sam answered.

Since Sam wouldn't show any need to leave the room, he probably had to push him a little. - Sam was doing better physically and maybe some fresh air would do him some good in the end too. Getting in contact with his father in his human form was another thing Dean wanted him to get used to. He wanted him to get used to so many thing and had to remember himself all the time to take it slow. To not push too much.

Sam snuggled closer, soaking in the warmth and comfort he gained from the body next to his. He knew he couldn't trust the man. He knew it. And though there was nothing more he wanted to. Trusting someone. Being loved no matter _who_ he was. He wanted to trust Dean all the more, since this Dean was _THE Dean_.

Dean sighed and stroke over Sam's forehead and temple down over his yaw until he reached his chin. He guided his face up, until their looks met. The younger Winchester smiled softly at him. „Told you I want you to call me _Dean_.", he whispered and rose both of his eyebrows.

Sam nodded, big hazel-green eyes staring up in his. He remembered those eyes. He remembered the deep green sea bound in circles ever since. Sam hadn't thought he'd see them ever again. See _Dean_ ever again. But the both of them were different now _._ They weren't teenagers anymore. Hell, Sam didn't even know what exactly he was _now_. But Dean Winchester sure as hell grew up pretty handsome and still seemed to be the nice male he had learned to value.

„You think you can call me by my name?", Dean asked gently.

Sam just nodded.

„Okay. - Tell you what: You're gonna take a shower and I'll prepare breakfast. Then we'll have breakfast in the kitchen with Bobby and John.", Dean explained, trying to keep himself as impassive as possible. „And later that morning we're going to take a walk outside."

Sam froze and looked aside, trying to fix onto something else but Dean. Trying to not let him see his distress. Sure he knew that the big black-grey dog was the man who brought him food when Dean wasn't around. At least somehow he thought it was that way, even when he didn't quite know how this was even possible.

„Sammy.", Dean whispered gently and tugged him closer. „You'll see nothing will happen. - The both of them are harmless." He grinned. „We're a pack. We're taking care of each other. - And you're part of our pack now, you understand?"

Sam glanced up at him and frowned. Sure he understood – at least he knew what Dean wanted to tell him, but his mind wouldn't allow him to believe the man's words – _yet_. He couldn't believe, that someone would like to have him around as a normal human and not as what he had been used for in the past.

Dean frowned back at him, a whide grin forming on his lips. „You go and take a shower. - I'll get you a fresh set of clothes."

Sam nodded. AGAIN. Not breaking eye contact.

„Say it.", the other male insisted silently. „I want you to say my name." … he wouldn't let him shut down. Let him become mute just because he wouldn't call Dean by his name.

The human just looked at him, his lips quivered.

„C'mon. - Say my name, Sam.", he whispered, laying his hand on the human's cheek. „I want you to call me by my name and not _sir_. So say it. - I wanna hear you sayin' my name."

Sam swallowed hard and wanted to turn away, but the younger Winchester wouldn't let him. „Say it.", he repeated softly.

He didn't know exactly what he was afraid of. That he would get punished if he did so? That DEAN would become real, or rather that – even when he was kind of scared of the men – that he'd wake up from this dream. Being pulled back into _the room_ … _his cage_ …

„ _Dean_.", it wasn't more than a whisper carried away on a breath – ever so silently.

And Dean smiled. Dimples formed around his eyes, as he beamed down at the man whose eyes were glistening with unshed tears.

„That was good. - Real good, Sammy." He brushed with his thump along Sam's cheekbone. „How're your ribs?"

„They're good, sir." The words were hardly over his lips, as he bit his tongue, squeezing his eyes shut. „Dean.", he corrected himself.

Whatever Sam was waiting for – it didn't happen. Dean just tugged the comforter and blankets down, exposing a lean body dressed in plaid flannels. The wolf bit his lower lip and shook his head, like he tried to shake off the pity he felt for the human. Or the feelings that rose inside him, as his look swept over Sam's form.

He still couldn't believe that this was the kid from thirteen years ago. The kid that had been way more than a friend to him. Even when they had been so very different – Sam had been the geek and Dean the total badass (he _still_ was a total badass) – there had been this affection between the both of them since day one. At least the Dean had felt that way.

„Do you remember – the one time at the lake? When I lost my swimming trunks?" Dean chuckled. - _No clue how he had come to this._ „You gave me yours – they hardly fit. - Wouldn't it have been for you, i would've had to run home naked." He sighed. „From that time on I always carried my duffel with me, you remember? - The dark brown one. I still have it in the trunk. I've a second set of clothes with me ever since."

„You threw me into the lake … with all my clothes.", Sam muttered impassive. „Because I didn't want to come in ..." _… because I didn't want you to_ **see** _._

Dean smiled, speechless for a moment or two. „When you wouldn't come out the next day I thought you got sick because of me. Because I pulled you from the plank." His smile faded sadly. „I was worried. - And when you wouldn't come out the second day I was even more worried … It was pretty cool back then and you had to walk home in your water-soaked clothes – _Because of me._ "

Silence for a while … Dean waited, waited for Sam to add something … anything.

„Back there … I knew you were different.", Sam mumbled and stole a glance at Dean's face, checking if he was still on the safe side. „You watched out for me ..."

The younger Winchester buried his fingers in Sam's soft hair and drew his head closer to his chest, holding him there. „I did. - And I loved to do it … wathcing out for you."

The sigh that fell from Sam's lips was filled with sadness. What Dean didn't know was that it had been because of him, that Sam didn't go to school for a whole week. His father had followed them to the lake after he had noticed that Samuel hung around with an older boy a lot after school. He had watched them – and designated for himself that this wasn't okay. William hadn't watched them the whole time of course. Instead he went back home, emptied a full bottle of bourbon and waited. - Waited for his son to come back home. And when he did – his clothes soaking wet – it had been just enough.

… That was the first time his father had truly beaten the shit out of him, had called him names.

Sam shook the bad memories off, when Dean pulled away and got up from the bed, going streight to the closet, where he got out another set of clothes for the young man. Either they had to go and buy some new stuff, or they had to do their laundry some time soon.

* * *

Sam was very silent the rest of the day. He didn't even say „yes sir" or „no sir". He just nodded or shook his head. - Always seeming like he was somewhere else in his mind – at least more than usual.

They had breakfast together in the morning, like Dean had said. Bobby had come by too. While the three of them fell over the bacon like starving dogs, Sam chewed on a chunk of pancakes. Then they went for a walk. All four of them. The two older man in front of them, while Dean stayed on Sam's side, one arm around his waist, since the human seemed to be caught by vertigo sometimes.

When they got home, he brought Sam back into the bedroom, letting him get some rest, but woke him for lunchtime, since Sam had to eat something. Had to get stronger.

While the three men ate grilled (bloody) beef with loads of barbecue sauce and gravy and mashed potatoes. Sam just tasted from the potatoe-mash. Sam's serving of beef was soft from being boiled for hours. Though he didn't touch it. He didn't even finish the mashed potatoes.

The three men shared concerned looks but didn't say anything.

Bobby and Dean cleaned the dishes afterwards and John brewed coffee for all of them – including Sam. He made a special one for the youngster. With a lot of milk and sugar and poured some of the vanilla syrup (wich he had bought specially for the human) in it. It wasn't the older Winchester's thing to treat grown up men like he'd treat children. Hell, he wasn't even sure if he had treated Dean like a child when he was little. But he figured – even after over a week – that a fresh brewed strong coffee with just a shot of milk would be too much for the human's abused stomach to take in.

While the others were still busy with the dishes, John placed a mug in front of Sam and held his in his hands, taking a sip.

„Check it out, kiddo." John tugged the mug closer towards the man on the other side of the table.

Sam glanced up, stealing a look at John and then at the mug.

„I think it's time to get you used to grown up food. - Not the stuff Dean's giving you all the damn time." A cocky grin formed on the older man's face, lighting up his eyes.

„Dad!", Dean called out and turned around to glare at his father. „Did you just give him COFFEE?"

John shrugged. „With a lot of milk and sugar. - Don't you worry, he'll be fine."

A low rumble tore from Dean's throat to show his disapproval.

John cocked both eyebrows and took another sip from his coffee before he put it back down, eying the human male closely. „It's yours, Sam. - Try it."

Sam glanced up again thru his long bangs and blinked. The older man was smiling at him. He knew who he was – he was the wolf. He saw it in his brown eyes. He was the one that was on his side when Dean wouldn't be in the cabin. - When he went to the salvage … He knew it. He KNEW it wasn't a trap, nor that he'd be punished. But his mind wouldn't let him do what he wanted to. Wouldn't allow to believe that these people wouldn't hurt him.

Sam reached for the mug hesitantly – with both hands. His long bony fingers wrapped around it, feeling the warmth of the fluid inside penetrating the crockery. Slowly he lifted it – without looking up – and guided it to his lips. And ever so carefully he took a small sip, tasting the liquid on his tongue. Sweet and … _amazing_.

„Good, huh?", John asked.

Sam glanced over the seam of his mug. „Yeah. Thank you, sir.", he answered silently.

* * *

The nights were still the same. Plastered with nightmares. Haunted of images of men and women whose faces he haven't seen. Voices and high-pitched laughter that were burnt into his mind. The feelings of sharp leather tearing thru his skin and deep into his flesh. Blows into his face.

Sam's eyes snapped open. His clothes were soaked with sweat, he was trembling, his breaths came in harsh short puffs.

„It's okay, Sam.", he heard a familiar voice say. „I'm here." Dean tightened his hold on the human, and brought the human's back flush against his chest. „Just a dream. It's just a dream."

A desperate gasp fell from Sam's lips and a tear ran down his cheek. He grasped the other man's hand and squeezed it tightly, proofing that he was with Dean. That there was truly someone holding him, talking to him.

„It's over, Sammy. - It's all over.", the younger Winchester muttered in his sleep. „You're with the pack now. - We're gonna keep ya' safe."

Sam cradled the older man's hand in his and brought it up to his chest, holding it tight against it, right where his heart was thumping like crazy.

This night he didn't fall asleep again. He stared into the darkness with wide eyes, holding onto the man that promised safety.

* * *

Another week passed and Sam seemed to improve. He didn't talk a lot. - At least less as he had before. Instead of his yes, sir and no, sir he just nodded or shook his head, avoiding to call Dean's name. Avoiding to call anyone by his name – even when John and Bobby wanted him to do so.

Even Ellen had stopped by and had checked on her patient. She seemed genuinely happy about his improvement. - At least the physical one.

Sam had started to move around in the house when Dean was there – but he always stayed close to the younger Winchester. Dean also had gotten Sam to spend some time in front of the TV, even when he didn't seem to like that very much.

Sam had started to visit the bathroom all by himself when he needed to. Dean didn't have to tell him anymore to do his business. The human had also done the laundry all by himself. Had washed the clothes of the three of them and had put them into the dryer. - Sadly poppa Winchester's woolen pullovers too …

He also seemed more comfortable around John in his human form now.

This afternoon it was Jody's turn to come around. She had to ask Sam a couple of things – since the shifter wouldn't talk. She said she needed something to put the jimmy on before she'd go back into the basement to interrogate the bastard properly.

Dean had tried to prepare Sam for it. He told him who and why the sheriff would come by and that she had some questions for him only he could answer.

Sam had just nodded and sniffed.

* * *

Dean sat on the couch yawning. Sam sat – curled up – beside him, snuggled into his side under a blanket. His eyes remained closed, but the younger Winchester knew that he wasn't asleep, that he was high awake and alert to everything that was going on around him.

It felt good to know that Sam was comfortable with him by now. - At least mostly. There were these times where he eyed Dean warily – specially when he brought him into the bathroom, since Sam wasn't very stable on his feet yet. And those times, when Sam tensed, when Dean crawled under the covers. It seemed as if he was afraid the younger Winchester would do something bad to him. But after some time his discomfort eased and he cuddled into the older male's side and let himself being wrapped up in strong arms.

Dean put his hand on Sam's shoulder, tugging his head into his lap gently. A low comfortable growl leaving the wolf's throat, as he buried his hands in soft hair, caressing Sam's scalp gently.

Thin fingers found their way around the wolf's thigh and held onto it in a loose grip.

But the peace shouldn't last long. Dean heard the machine of the sheriff's car before any human's ear was able to, and as if to comfort Sam before she even arrived, he rested his hand on the human's head.

A knock vaulted them out of their comfort roughly. Dean felt Sam tense and his hold on him tightened. His eyes snapped open and towards the door as he heard John's heavy footfalls. The older Winchester emerged from the kitchen and went to the front door, opening it slowly.

„Hey, Jody.", John greeted her with a faint smile and nodded into the room.

The Sheriff nodded back and entered, pulling her cap from her head, revealing a short pony-tale. „Hey John.", she said and then looked at the couch. „Hey, Dean. - Sam." She wore a stressed smile as she went further into the room.

Sheriff Mills tried to hold eye-contact with the young human, but Sam wouldn't bite. He just stole a glimpse at her before he continued to stare motionless on the TV. Dean waved her over and tugged Sam into a sitting position to make space for the Sheriff.

The human male tugged the blanket tighter around his shoulders and inched back as Dean made an attempt to get on the other side so he wouldn't be in the way and between Sam and the sheriff. But Sam obviously had his own plans: Keeping Dean between himself and her.

Dean decided to play along. Even when he had tried to prepare Sam, had explained how it would go down with the sheriff … Sam seemed to have forgotten about it. Or had just changed their plans because he had decided that it was a bad idea to talk to someone else but Dean.

„Hey, Samuel.", she greeted him with a friendly smile.

Sam glanced at her thru long chestnut-brown bangs with a curious expression, pushing his back into the corner of the couch. No one beside his father had called him Samuel.

_What a bad start of a conversation …_

„Hello, ma'am.", but he greeted her back anyway – how he was supposed to do.

„I've a couple of questions. - About the men you were with." Jody leaned forward a little to get a better look at the man. „It's important to us. - We want to make sure that what happened to you won't happen to anyone else too … so … I'd start at the beginning if that's alright?"

Sam nodded.

Dean reached for Sam's hand that was hidden under the blanket and squeezed it gently, trying to show him that he wasn't alone.

„People were looking for you, you know? When you vanished.", she began visibly hesitantly, „I want you to know that."

Sam stole another glance at her and gave her a short nod.

„They found William – your father – two states over. About two weeks after you stopped visiting the school.", she continued calmly, „They arrested him, thought he killed you." She watched the younger man closely. „What happened? … Haven't you been with him?"

Sam sniffed. „No, ma'am."

Dean eyed the human male closely, felt as his hand started to tremble in his. Sam visibly paled at the question. He looked so vulnerable and unsure as if he was thirteen again.

„Why haven't you been with him?", she asked then.

„Because he was mad at me, ma'am.", he answered, shooting Dean a pleading look. „He gave me away ..." _… he sold me._

Dean KNEW they had to do this, that they had to know. So he let her go on and would only stop her if he had the feeling that Sam wasn't able to take it anymore.

„To the men in the club?", She asked frowning. „Did he gave you to them?"

Sam shook his head. „To others … They sold me to an older couple." _… for way too much money._

John stood in the doorway of the kitchen, listening cautiously.

Jody Mills nodded and clashed her hands together. „Why don't you just tell … and if i've questions, I'll ask them, huh?"

Dean glanced at her. He knew this technique. This way she'd probably learn more about Sam's past and the owner or owners of the club.

Sam nodded again. „Where am I supposed to start, ma'am?", he asked, his voice calm – mechanic.

„When your dad gave you to these people. - Just start off … We'll listen.", she said after a moment of thinking.

Sam nodded – like always, blowing out a shuddering breath. He tried to concentrate, tried to recall his past. After a long while he cleared his throat gingerly and his head sunk further down, his look glued to the dark stains on the couch between him and Dean.

„My dad sold me … to these men.", he started from the beginning, since he wasn't sure where she wanted him to start exactly. „They braught me into a house with a lot of other kids. - Sometimes there came people and checked us out. After some days there came this couple. They took me with them." Sam paused, blinking at the stains. „I got a room in the basement where they locked me. - I don't know how long I've been there. Could've been years or months … or just weeks." He paused again. „But I got too old and they wanted to get rid of me soon. - Some night they got me out of my room and into a van. We drove what seemed for hours, told me they had found someone better … another boy who'd be more confident than me." He sounded so sad – even if it was weird. Actually Sam should've been happy, shouldn't he? To get away from these people.

Sam sniffed, shaking his head. „I shouldn't have rebelled against them. - They told me from the beginning. They said they'd give me somewhere where I'd learn to follow orders. Where they'd teach me how I am supposed to behave around my masters. - But I didn't believe them. I thought they're just threatening. But I was wrong … _so wrong_..." Sam's voice broke.

John Winchester's guts twisted and rebelled. So did Dean's. He sat there beside Sam, holding onto him tightly, giving him reassuring looks when ever the human glanced at him.

„They braught me to this man. - Who wasn't a man. I mean … he definitely was male, but he was different. I don't know WHAT he was, but he wasn't human. Not at all … and his wife wasn't human either." Sam glanced up at the sheriff and sniffed again, his voice trembled. „She was the worst of all of them. - She was supposed to train me. - And she did … She trained _all of us_."

„Did these two have a name? - Were they married?", the sheriff asked.

Sam shook his head. „I don't know ma'am. - I am not supposed to remember faces or names. But … I _can_ see their faces – sometimes they come back to me … in my dreams."

She nodded and sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

„Did her or his eyes had a different colour? You know … sometimes? Like they were changing?", Dean asked curiously.

Sam looked up at him and frowned. „His didn't. - But her's … When she was real mad at me … her blue eyes morphed into a dark orange and red …"

Dean and Jody shared a knowing look. - Sam was talking about a turned werewolf. While the eyes of the ones - like the Winchester's who were born that way – remained in their true colour, the turned ones changed into a dark orange, golden yellow or dark red.

„Sometimes … at first … the men were just men, you know, ma'am?", Sam asked, drawing the woman's attention back at him.

„What do you mean?", Jody asked, her eyebrows furrowed.

John pushed away from the door frame and crossed his arms in front of his chest, listening closely. His forehead creased into a deep frown.

„They were just men. - And then … then they were gone for a couple of days. - And when they came back again, they had changed. They were different. - _Their eyes_ were different." Sam frowned, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand. „They were like _her_ then ..."

„What about the club, Samuel?", Jody asked quietly.

Sam cocked his head to the side, his lips quivering.

„How long have you been there?", she went on asking.

Sam sniffed, tears started to drop from his eyes, hitting the blanket and couch. He swallowed a sob, the muscles in his yaw and his neck started to work. The human tried to keep control, tried to hold it together.

„I think it's enough, Sheriff.", Dean's voice was hoarse, his gaze moving over to Sam. - It was enough. Sam was done and so was he. Whatever she wanted to know, she could come by in another couple of days, continue her interrogation then. The wolf's heart sank, hearing the heart-tearing sobs and hiccups. He inched closer and pulled Sam into his arms.

And Sam let him. He buried his face in Dean's shoulder, crying shamelessly now.

„Hey, Sammy. - It's okay.", Dean whispered into his ear. „You don't have to tell us any more. - You did good. _Real good_ , Sam. I'm proud of you." He tugged him closer, „So proud." he closed his eyes for a brief moment.

Wouldn't they have left, Sam wouldn't have been thru all of this. Would they've thought about the possibility that William had been an ass. Maybe, if Dean would've kept his eyes open in the first place, would've had at least checked on Sam after he had left, this wouldn't have happened. If he would've recognized the human's calls for him as what they were, he could've saved him.

„I'll take care of you, Sammy. I swear.", Dean whispered, holding the desperately weeping human in his arms. So close … and still … so far apart. Dean wanted to pull him inside his own form, to protect him, to envelope him completely so that nothing would ever be able to hurt him again. „I swear, I'll take care of you. - They won't hurt you anymore." He stared at Jody, while he whispered these things softly, rocking him gently.

Sam clung to him desperately, held onto him for dear life.

Jody frowned, sharing a questioning look with John. She opened her mouth as if she wanted to say something as she looked back at Sam and Dean. But she closed it again. Instead of saying anything she rose from the couch, giving Dean a short nod and followed his father into the kitchen. - Leaving Sam and Dean on their own.

Dean closed his eyes again, feeling the body in his arms wrecked by sobs, shaking with hiccups – the bitter desperation and hurt flaring thru the human male's body. And the younger Winchester continued to whisper gentle words and soothing phrases into his ear until Sam's crying subsided, until he was too spent to shed tears anymore. Until his body gave into exhaustion …

… _. to be continued_

* * *

  
  


* * *

^^ Figured it's time for some action ^^

** Of Werewolves And Humans **

** Chapter 9 ~ Packing Up **

THEN:

_Dean closed his eyes again, feeling the body in his arms wrecked by sobs, shaking with hiccups – the bitter desperation and hurt flaring thru the human male's body. And the younger Winchester continued to whisper gentle words and soothing phrases into his ear until Sam's crying subsided, until he was too spent to shed tears anymore. Until his body gave into exhaustion …_

* * *

NOW:

Dean carried the human into their bedroom, where he laid him – ever so gently – onto the bed. He brushed his long bangs aside and pulled the comforter over him. Sam wouldn't even curl up as usual. He just lay there on his back. His eyes closed. His breathing slow and deep. The wolf frowned, his gaze filled with sorrow and pain. It hurt to see his mate that way. It tore him apart internally.

His bond with the human was growing steadily. - With every day that passed.

The younger Winchester rounded the bed and slipped under the comforter next to Sam. He pulled him further into the middle of the bed and curled up around him, tugging him close. Wrapping his strong arms protectively around Sam as if he wanted to shield him with his body from every kind danger out there.

* * *

They SHOULD've been on the Salvage since a couple of days now. But Sam wasn't doing so well after his encounter with the Sheriff. To be honest – he was miserable. He hadn't wanted to remember anything about it. At least not his past. Ever.

And Dean had been so nice to him. Let him be. Let him spend his time in their room without pushing him. Without even try to lure him out for food. He brought it into the room. And even when Sam wasn't hungry, he ate – at least a little bit. Just because he wanted to get better. Wanted to get stronger, even when his stomach rebelled. Dean gave him time, stayed with him and wouldn't go to the salvage to do his work.

He was just there. And even when they didn't talk, and Dean just sat in the chair at the window, staring outside with a pensive expression on his face – he was there. _Just for him._

* * *

It was a relative warm morning for the beginning of november, after it had rained half the night. Even birds were singing and the sun spread her warm light over the woods and the cabin, warming its surroundings slightly.

Sam rubbed his nose and yawned, shifting a little bit, stretching his long limps like a cat in front of the fireplace before he got comfortable again.

Dean had told him that they'd go to the Salvage tomorrow morning. That they couldn't stay in the cabin any longer since it would get too cold for Sam. But to be honest: Sam didn't care. As long as he was allowed to stay with Dean he'd go everywhere. Everywhere he wanted him to go.

The younger Winchester's hand rested on Sam's chest – right above his heart. He and his father had emptied the cupboards and stored most of their belongings in the Impala already. Dean would take them to Bobby's when he'd drive to the salvage to help him out with repairing a pick up this morning.

Sam and John were supposed to pack up their clothes and other belongings wich they'd take with them the next day.

„Good Morning.", Dean muttered under a yawn and stretched his muscles before he tugged Sam into his arms again, who nestled into them gratefully.

Sam moaned comfortably as respond, keeping his eyes closed. He didn't want to get out of bed – to be honest. It was way too cold and no one had made a fire yet. Besides: He was damn comfortable with the other man right where he was – so why leaving the softness and love he felt radiating from Dean?

Dean Winchester blinked his eyes open, as he felt long arms wrapping around his torso tentatively. Sam's touches sent tiny tingly jolts over his skin whenever he dared to. And these moments were rare. If only the human knew what effect he had on the wolfman inside him.

Dean brushed over his back, feeling the bandages thru the thin flannel on his back. „Guess you can leave them off.", he murmured into the sleep ruffled mop of hair. „They looked good so far. - Does it hurt anymore?"

Sam sniffed and shook his head.

The younger Winchester sighed. „I wanna hear you, Sammy. - C'mon."

It took a moment before a respond came: „No, Dean. They are just sore.", he answered hoarsely.

Dean nodded satisfied. „Good. - You wanna take a shower first?", he asked then. He had started to let Sam choose. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn't. Somehow Sam managed to turn things the other way, so that Dean just had to give up before he'd get a temper tantrum and felt tempted to bitch slap the human male.

„No, Sir.", he answered sleepily and nestled closer.

Dean frowned. „Sir?"

„I'm sorry … I'm not used to … I mean … you know …" He sighed and made an attempt to back away but Dean didn't let him.

„I want you to say my name, Sam.", he remembered him gently, „And look me in the eyes when you do so. - I wanna see your face when I'm talking to you."

Sam nodded and looked up, locking his gaze with the werewolf's. „Dean."

He smiled gently, bright emerald-green circles sparkling with warmth. „There you go.", his voice dropped an octave. „Just like that."

Dean took in the younger male's face. His big innocent eyes, flushed cheeks … his tender rose lips and the four days old scruff that covered Sam's face. He was the most beautiful thing Dean Winchester had ever seen. - The only thing he'd call beautiful anyway. Sam was the only one in the entire world, of whom he thought he was beautiful.

What being bond to a human was able to change … The younger Winchester had never been a fan of the human race. He had always called them uncivilized, animalistic douchebags on two feet. He had always wondered how they were capable of building houses, instead of living in holes anymore.

The growing beard had to be as long as his own by now. He hadn't shaved either. Just because he didn't want to leave Sam for just a second without really needing to.

Sam dove into the most green eyes he had ever seen. Deep as the ocean and warm as the sun. He wanted to touch him. Run his fingers over the dimples that spread away from the corners of his eyes when he smiled. Freckles that covered all over the male's face. Wanted to feel his skin under his fingers – just as when they had been at the lake, in the water. When Dean had held him in his arms – so close. Sam remembered how it felt like – an embrace so warm, so SAFE.

Sam blinked and tore himself from the thoughts before he'd do something that was so very wrong.

„So .. I guess I'll take the shower first than." Dean grinned and rose an eyebrow. He definitely had to get out of the bed – SOON. Before Sam'd notice how much he enjoyed to be with him. He cleared his throat gingerly and untangled his arms.

Sam nodded and his look drifted aside, staring at the closet beside the open door.

* * *

While Dean took his shower, Sam decided to get a fire going in the fireplace. He couldn't leave all the work to these men. Men who cared for him. He had to make it up to them – somehow.

So he went onto the porch. His breath evaporating in the crispy morning-air. The floorboards beneath his feet were cold and covered in white frost. Sam gathered some logs on his arms and stilled for a moment. - _Listening_.

It wasn't like he had heard something. It was more of a feeling, that told him to stop in his tracks and listen. - Listen if he heard something. Sam glanced up thru long chestnut-brown bangs. His look sweeping over the Impala and the wooden skirting. Then he took in the path, that was just broad enough for the Impala to get thru the woods without leaving scratches on the black beauty.

Everything was silent. _So silent._ His breath evaporated in front of him, rising up in tender puffs before his eyes. There was nothing that seemed out of the ordinary. Nothing odd he could've seen. _And still …_

Sam shook his head and went back into the cabin, kneeling down before the fireplace. An old zippo was there. He couldn't shake off the feeling that there was something outside of the house. So he glanced at the shut front door, his eyebrows furrowed. Dean had told him that they had killed them – _all of them_. That there was nothing he had been afraid of anymore.

So he shoved the uneasy feeling aside and ignored the twist in his guts and concentrated at the fire. A broad smile enlightened the human's face, when the flames started to eat their way thru the logs. Sam sat back on his heels and pulled his legs flush against his body, wrapping his arms around them and stared into the blazing fire. After a while he put two more logs into it and soon after that Dean came out of the shower. All squeaky clean, shaved and smiling with a happy song on his lips.

He looked at Sam, watching the light of the fire dancing on the skin of the human's face. The fire reflecting in his hazel-green eyes as he turned towards him with a satisfied smile.

His first smile since … _ever_. The worlds most beautiful smile and the cutest dimples directly in front of him. And those lips … _not to mention those lips …_

„Wanna help me with breakfast?", Dean asked – taking his chance to draw Sam further out of the darkness he lived in most of the time, wich seemed to be all present ever since they had taken him from the club.

And Sam nodded, still smiling, beaming up at Dean. - _Just like that._ As if he was a normal human under normal circumstances in a damn normal life.

He then followed the older male into the kitchen, where Dean got the last mega-pack of bacon out of the fridge and the last five eggs. They also had half a bottle of instant-pancake-powder left. Half a liter of milk and some coffee.

Dean gave Sam the task to make the scrambled eggs and bacon, while he poured a good amount of milk into the bottle with the instant-powder. Then he shook the bottle, well noticing that Sam was stealing glances at him while he did so.

Dean smiled at him and sighed happily. It was going well. It seemed like Sam was opening up to him, was getting comfortable in his presence. Just like it had to be among mates. - Like it had to be, when you were a member of a pack of wolves.

Sam laid two sheets of kitchen-paper on a plate and gave the bacon on it, eying it curiously. It had been some time since he last ate bacon. He swallowed visibly, his look glued to the plate, while he stirred in the pan with the eggs.

Dean glanced at him and then at the plate and back at Sam. A grin tugged on his lips. „Wanna have one?", he asked and nudged Sam gently with his elbow.

Sam jumped a bit and looked at him with big eyes. - Blushing deeply.

Dean then took a stripe of bacon and held it in front of Sam, looking at him inviting. „It's okay. - Take it.", he encouraged him further, waving slightly with the stripe, he held in between his thump and index finger.

Sam looked at him as if to ask if he was really sure. He had seen the men pounce on the meaty food like a pack of starved dogs ever since he was allowed to join them.

„Take it.", Dean said again.

And Sam took it. _And_ he ate it slow and relishing. The expression on his face was mesmerizing – that much had to be said. He was kind of worshipping the food with his tongue and teeth until he swallowed it. And even after that, there was this blissful expression all over Sam's face.

Dean watched him. Watched him closely – and the pancakes nearly burned accidentally.

* * *

Dean went to the Salvage after breakfast and after he had removed the bandages from Sam's back and had rubbed the marigold salve all over Sam's feet. The scars there seemed a lot more smooth and the skin felt softer than before. - To Dean's relieve. It also looked more comfortable when Sam was walking around. The way he rolled off his feet with every step he made was more smooth now.

What reminded Dean to finally get a pair of boots for the human, in case he wanted to explore the yard at Bobby's.

While Dean helped their eldest pack-member with the pick-up-truck at the Salvage, John and Sam started to pack up the rest of their belongings. - _Together_. They packed their clothes in duffels and bag-packs and placed them beside the door. Then they covered the couch and the other furniture with big sheets.

John made lunch – soup out of the can. Tomato and rice soup to be exact. The older Winchester warmed two cans up on the stove and the two of them emptied the cans by drinking from them, so they wouldn't make anything dirty again.

John knew that Sam didn't trust him, even when he helped to get their stuff together. He caught the young human more than one time as he glanced at him warily, or eyed him with an unreadable expression on his face. He also was aware that Sam wouldn't turn his back on him and kept a healthy distance between him and John.

The elder Winchester turned down the water and electricity and brought their last bag with garbage behind the cabin.

They let the fire die and John got a blanket for Sam so he wouldn't get cold until Dean'd be back. The older Winchester had given a book to Sam in case he was bored, while he made the cabin clear for the winter on the outside. Meanwhile the human skipped thru the book of ancient mythology. - He stopped at a certain picture of a creature that was used to be called lupus versipellis. Sam stared at it for a long time and thought.

Most of the articles in the book were written in latin – _all of them_ actually. So Sam stayed on the couch and checked out the old drawings. Though he always returned to the one of the werewolf.

John glanced at Sam with an uneasy expression on his face and tense body when he returned. Sam immediately caught the older man's distress and frowned at him.

„I want you to stay inside. - Until Dean's here to pick us up.", the older Winchester said, his voice beyond serious. It sounded close to an order and the human nodded. „Stay here in the living-room. - Don't leave it."

Sam stared at John with big eyes – sparkles of fear flashing up in his ever so hazel-green circles.

* * *

_Somewhere in the woods …_

A bunch of men and a woman stood in a circle. She talked and the other's listened. Non of them looked like a hiker, or wanderer. They looked completely misplaced, wearing nothing but jeans and shirts, and bare feet.

She snarled at the man left from her, shooting him a disapproving look. Her snarl was way too animal-like and so _not-human_ at all. The circles of her eyes turned into an orange-red, glaring dangerously at her partners.

„You know Daryl's orders. - Kill the human, but leave the wolf alone.", she said with a low growl. „Use them." The woman rummaged around in a bag and pulled out three hand-guns. Three of the men took them. Then she handed the three armed men small boxes. „Use them if you need to." One of the man opened it and lurked inside – the box revealed three pole syringes. „Try and _not_ create too much mess. - But do what you have to." She shared looks with everyone. „If possible let it look like an accident. - We don't need any hunters on our tails. Nor the sheriff. - At least until we're gone."

The men nodded and every one of them loaded their weapons with a syringe. The other two nodded, their eyes turning into reddish colors.

The three of them took a step back from the other two men and the woman.

„Go. - We'll met up at the farm again.", she said and with that their task had started.

* * *

John Winchester paced back and forth in the living room, his forehead creased and his eyebrows furrowed. He seemed more than uneasy now. He looked nervous and too disturbed for Sam's liking.

Then he stopped. His look sternly glued to the ground. His attention snapped to the window and the door and he cursed silently.

„Sir?", Sam asked hesitantly and rose from the couch, the book in his left hand.

„Stay put, kiddo.", the man growled.

Sam backed away a few steps, seeing the fire rising in the man's darkening orbs.

„When I say run – **RUN**.", another growl came over his lips as he looked at him. „No matter what you see. - What you hear. - You **RUN** , run as fast as you can and don't look back."

Sam nodded worriedly.

John glanced at the floor once more and then back up at Sam. He went to the mountain of duffel-bags beside the door and rummaged around in the one on top. With a sly grin he pulled a handgun out and eyed it for a moment. John checked on the clip and nodded to himself satisfied. Then he removed the safety and was in two long strides in front of Sam.

John fixed the human with a reassuring look and took the book away from his hand, replacing it with the weapon.

„Pull the trigger if you have to. - Just do me a favor and don't shoot at the black one with the brown eyes." He smiled cocky – just like Dean sometimes did.

… _... to be continued_

* * *

  
  


* * *

**to be honest: I'm not very satisfied with this chapter ...**


	5. Chapter 5

** Of Werewolves And Humans **

** Chapter 10 ~ Hide And Seek **

THEN:

_John fixed the human with a reassuring look and took the book away from his hand, replacing it with the weapon._

„ _Pull the trigger if you have to. - Just do me a favor and don't shoot at the black one with the brown eyes." He smiled cocky – just like Dean sometimes did._

* * *

NOW:

He was too slow. - He knew it. He wouldn't be able to escape that way, they'd track him down, no matter where he'd try to hide. So he kept running and tried to think thru the haze of panic. Tried to catch a streight thought. Tried to ignore the bitter cold that crept up his limps and clawed at his body.

Sam knew he wasn't able to keep his pace. His legs and feet hurt already, his lungs were screaming for oxygen.

Sam heard them. Heard paws connecting with the forest-ground, heard the rumbles and growls behind him. He was panting, his bare feet hurt from the cold and slippery ground under them. It wasn't just once that he stumbled and hit the ground. Other times he was able to catch himself before hitting the uneven surface beneath him.

The air felt heavy and hard to breath. His body was losing the battle against the effort of dashing forward.

He took a couple of steps forward, his left foot slipped away under him and he tumbled and fell, rolling down the slope to his left. Withered branches of bushes tore on his jeans and shirt and ripped holes into the them, scratching the skin beneath, while Sam tried to protect his face and head with his hands during the fall.

With a noisy plop he came to a hold on the foot of the slope, landing in a giant puddle of mud. Sam rolled on his back with a wince and blinked his eyes open – fighting to get much-needed oxygen into his lungs.

Holy fucking shit – _THAT_ was cold. Now he shivered violently. The mud-soaked fabric stuck to his skin and he stunk. Holy crap … _he stunk?_ Sam's eyes widened and he sat up awkwardly, drawing one breath in after another – calming himself down.

That was it. - He stunk.

He heard a high-pitched whine not too far away.

Sam looked down on himself, burying his hands in the cold mud on his sides and lifted them up, eying the dark-grey substance. A shiver tore down the length of his spine as he thought about getting that stuff all over him. But he had to. - If he wanted to survive he had to.

* * *

Dean slid behind the steering wheel and yawned. It had gotten later as he had wanted to. - But in the end they had found the issue and repaired the old pick up of old lady Morrison. And for a tight squeeze of his left butt-cheek he had gotten an extra-tip from the old girl. - So all in all not a bad day after all.

He turned the key in baby's ignition and the machine roared to life within the next moment. Dean smiled to himself as he pulled away from the Salvage and onto the road, the Impala's headlights illuminating him the short way thru the darkening afternoon.

Finally they'd move to Bobby's. Not just because of the human's needs. Also because Sheriff Mills had mentioned that the shifter (wich she had on lockdown in her basement) probably knew about him and his father – and their pack in general. What meant they could probably know about Sam. Wich was of course tricky.

They had killed all the witnesses – including the ones in the cells at the sheriff's station. And the only one who was left was high likely Sam. So if they knew that he was still alive they would want to get him out of the way for sure. The last thing people (even when they weren't human) needed were witnesses.

Dean Winchester floored the gas pedal as soon as he was outside the town to be faster at his destination. Five minutes later he pulled off of the main-road onto a sideway … and that was when an uneasy feeling started to settle over his mood and body. The woods seemed calm. - Nearly too calm. He didn't sense any deer … any movement. _Nothing_. And that was one nothing too much.

Dean swallowed around the growing lump in his throat and slowed down, letting his senses radiate from him, daring his instincts to scent the failure in all this.

Then – although he sat inside the car – he was able to sense the difference that hung in the air. Something wasn't right. And the closer he came to the cabin, the more intensive the feeling got.

Dean Winchester's stomach twisted violently as he pulled up in front of the house.

A dark giant form was laying sprawled out on the porch. The front door was wide open. And there was blood. - Dean was able to smell the heavy scent of iron hanging in the air.

He hurried to the dark figures side on the porch, instantly spotting an empty pole syringe in the animal's neck and a second one in his hind leg. Dean cursed silently, pulling both of them out and tossed them aside.

His father was out cold – but alive. He'd have one hell of a hangover in a couple of hours for sure. Dean glanced around, fumbling for the phone in his left jeans-pocket. While he rose he pressed the speed dial, warily watching his surroundings.

„Bobby. - Get the others. We need help." Dean slammed his phone shut and glanced at the Impala. „Time to play.", he growled to himself, as he made his way to the car's trunk and pulled a duffel-bag out.

Moments later he was stripping his clothes off and clawing on his skin. Joints shifted. Bones broke. And there he stood. One of the most stunning creatures among his kind. Almost taller as the Impala, sleek long brown and grey fur waving in the cool breeze. Dangerously green glowing eyes darted to the limp body on the porch.

A dangerous snarl followed by a threatening rumble came from the depths of the wolf's throat. His gaze wandering to the duffel-bag before him. Then he slipped with his head into the sling and shook his head so that the bag slid down, dangling from his neck.

The wolf rose his snout into the air and snuffed, taking in the foreign scents … and the one he was looking for – _SAM's_.

With a low growl he took off into the woods, following his nose deeper into the underwood. He sensed Sam … and the others. _Wolves_. They were following Sam – more likely _hunting him_. Dean snarled, increasing his pace further as he spotted something silvery gleaming in the pale light that was left from the day. Soon it'd be dark and Sam would've no chance to either orientate or see where he was going. And that'd be his definite death.

The wolf shook his head, growling at nothing. Sam wouldn't be able to protect himself, defend himself. He had to find him … _and that fast._

He turned towards the gleaming thing and was stunned to see his father's Baretta. He must've given it to Sam. - It was a pity that the human had lost it. - He could've shot at them, could've defended himself.

The track led him down a slope towards a big puddle of mud. Sam must've fallen down here and … The wolf followed the trace a few yards away from the puddle and then stopped. Sam's scent was too faint and was vanishing too fast for him to follow. Dean's ever so green eyes darted back at the mud-puddle. Would a wolf be able to grin, he'd had a full-face-grin on him right now.

 _Good boy._ \- Covering his scent was one hell of an idea. On the other hand: how was _he_ supposed to find Sam now?

Might as well he had to use his eyes and follow the tracks he could SEE. Then again … the wolves would choose the same abilities to get to Sam. - So he had to hurry nonetheless.

Figuring that the others wouldn't be too damp to track Sam down without sniffing him, he followed the wolves scent until he was able to hear them. There were four of them. No, six. One of them had to be a female one …

Dean lowered his body and glanced at the wolves, following them. It wouldn't last long until they'd perceive him, even when he was behind them. Then they split up. One of the wolves followed the female one, while the others took off in another direction. Dean would take this as an opportunity.

Then … there was blood – the iron smell and taste on his tongue of blood as he inhaled deeply. - Human blood. Sam's blood. It was faint and barely noticable, but the others must've sensed it too.

The pace of the two wolves increased until they were dashing towards their destination and Dean followed them – without caring about being recognised.

A low rumble and Dean jumped the females backup, taking him to the ground. The wolf yelped, as Dean buried his teeth in his throat, while they rolled to the side. The female one stopped in her tracks for a moment, sparing a glance at the both and took off again.

Dean tore a gash with his giant claws into the wolf's stomach beneath him, making it impossible to follow with an injury like that. And Dean would gain some advance while he'd take the female one down, while the male wolf would be healing – or at least tried to. He backed away for a moment and buried his fangs in the wolf's throat.

No, they wouldn't stay alive. Non of them. No one was hunting or hurting his mate without getting punished.

Yeah, there was no way to kill a bastard like that except you ripped his heart out, let him bleed out or poison him with a silver bullet.

* * *

Sam had claimed an elevation, where he had a better few thru the trees and bushes around. He was beyond exhausted and ready to lie down and die. He didn't car if they'd get to him. If they would tear him apart with their fangs and claws. His body simply cried for rest, so did his mind.

It wasn't long until it would be dark. Too dark to see anything. Then they'd get to him anyway, would've caught up. So why not shorten the whole thing and lie down and wait …

That was when he spotted something. - Could it really be?

Was this a hole, just a couple of feet away, that he saw thru the dim light? Maybe it was just a badger's burrow – or maybe it was the entrance to a cave. The hole looked big enough to get thru for Sam, but was too small for the lycans.

Sam drew in a shuddering breath and looked around – listening. It was so quiet. As quiet as it had been that morning. And he'd bet it was because of the wolves presence.

He was cold to the bones. His clothes hanging torn and limply from his broad shoulders. His hands were shaking, and his teeth chattering.

He had lost the gun – the gun John had given to him. He sure'd be mad at him. Damn mad, when he find out that he lost it. Rather – threw it away.

John had told him to pull the trigger. And Sam had tried – really tried. But somehow it didn't work. And so he had just thrown it at the damn creature. He hadn't even hit it. Failed his target with a couple of inches.

Somewhere from far away he heard a pained yelp and growls … They were close – too close.

* * *

Dean dashed thru the withered underwood, holding towards the wolf before him. And then – they had reached an elevation, surrounded by trees but otherwise blank – he jumped at her with a giant leap and took her to the ground with him. They rolled down on the other side, banging against trees and rolled over bushes, coming to a hold at the foot of it.

Dean landed on top of her, her long dangerous fangs dogged in his front leg. Dean yelped, trying to tear his abused leg from her mouth. But she wouldn't let go. He got a hold of her throat, like he had done with the other one.

Her eyes gleamed with a furious orange-red, as he tightened his hold on her throat, drawing crimson red liquid that soaked roughly thru her blonde-white fur. She yelped and let go of Dean's leg, trying to break free. But there was no way Dean would let go. No way he'd let her be. She was trying to kill Sam, kill his mate and he wouldn't let her do that.

Dean buried his giant fangs further into her throat and then ripped a big chunk of flesh brutally from her body. A low growl died in her throat and got replaced by a desperate gurgling sound. - She wouldn't heal before she bled out.

The wolf looked around, spitting the piece of meat on the ground beside him. Her pack was too far away to sense her death, to feel that one of them was in danger and needed help. - SO he got time. Time to cover his and Sam's tracks.

Dean limped away from the female wolf, who was taking her last strangled breaths before Dean morphed back into his human form. Panting, he opened his duffel and pulled a small spray-bottle out. He sprayed some of it onto the dying wolf and the nearby surroundings, shooting concerned glances at the small hole about fivty yards away from him.

When he was done, he tossed the spray back into the duffel. That'd cover their tracks long enough (hopefully) until Bobby and the others would find them. At least he hoped so.

Dean picked the duffel up and headed towards the hole. He stuffed the bag in it and crawled behind, shoving it ahead of him.

Arrived at the other end of the small entry he discovered that this hole was more of a cave. It was high enough for him to stand up – his roughly spiked hair brushing over the stony ceiling above him.

He lurked into the darkness, hearing the faint heartbeats he had been looking for, sensing that the cave was bigger as he had thought. Dean braced his hand on the fading wound on his lower arm for a moment, biting back a hiss.

There was something in the middle of the elliptical cavern, that was definitely the offspring of the faint thump that grew louder the closer Dean came.

He cursed silently, hearing the slow but steady breaths of the being, that laid crumbled on the floor. - It looked like the human had collapsed right there.

„Damn it.", he muttered under his heavy breathes. It was cold. Too cold for a human. Even Dean was freezing in his human form without all the fur. Sam would freeze to death in here. He didn't even didn't shake anymore.

Dean felt the dump floor under his feet. He fell to his knees beside him and touched Sam's forehead and cheek tentatively, feeling the clammy cold skin.

He didn't need to see Sam's face to know in what shape he was.

„Sammy?", he whispered gently, cupping the man's face in his hands. „Wake up." He lifted the human's upper body from the cold floor and pressed him against his chest, trying to warm him from what little he had to give. He knew it wouldn't be enough – not even close.

Sam stirred, a silent moan fell from his lips. Dean hushed him. They had to stay quiet or they'd find them.

„Keep quiet. - They're still out there.", he whispered.

Sam nodded weakly, guiding one of his hands on Dean's bicep, feeling the comfortable warmth the man was radiating.

Dean nearly flinched away from the death-cold touch. Sam was so cold. _Too cold._

„It's okay. - We've to wait for Bobby and the others. - You found a nice place by the way.", he whispered. „A real nice place. - Cosy and all that." Okay, he couldn't leave it without a sarcastic touch.

Sam's yaw trembled.

„We've to get you warmed up a little, Sammy.", Dean whispered softly. „You saw them? The others?", he asked hesitantly.

Sam nodded. „Giant wolves.", he answered barely audible.

Dean nodded and his lips formed into a thin line. „Werewolves.", he corrected the human.

Sam nodded. He had figured they were. „Like you.", he breathed, resting his cheek on the other man's shoulder.

Dean froze, staring into nothingness for a moment, then silently cleared his throat. „You know?"

„Knew ya'nt human.", Sam muttered silently, letting the warmth of the other male's body soak thru his muddy fabric.

„I'll get a blanket. - Lay you on it.", Dean whispered, not showing his concern. „Then I'll change and we'll arrange a small cuddling-party down here." He frowned at the way Sam's hand started to lose the grip on his bicep. „You'll stay awake, okay? - I'm back in a minute."

Sam sighed.

Dean eased him back on the cold ground, feeling the full-body-shiver that wrecked the human's form as he did so.

„Back in a minute.", he whispered, spotting his duffel a few feet away.

He was on it to grab his bag, as he froze in his movement. He listened, biting back a curse. His eyes darted towards the small hole and blinked. A sound – for humans barely audible – reached his sensitive ears. They were there … they were searching for them. They knew Sam wasn't longer alone. His gaze wandered back at Sam's prone form and to the duffel. He prayed that he wouldn't move – not now. They'd be able to hear it, would know where they were.

His tense muscles relaxed slightly, as the movements seemed to disappear again, and he grabbed his duffel, eagerly rummaging thru it until he found what he had been looking for: a thin blanket.

Dean hurried to spread it out on the ground on the furthest wall from the hole, placing the duffel beside it. He eagerly hurried back to Sam's side, not wasting time. Dean guided his arms under his knees and shoulders and lifted him slowly. The human lay limply in his arms, as if life had already left him. Just the slow breaths and shallow thumps of the human's heart told him that he was still alive. - Still with him.

He ever so gently eased him onto the blanket and backed off, listening again and glancing at the hole. The world outside darkened now from minute to minute. Soon they'd be covered in complete darkness. Dean glanced at Sam before he did what he had to. - Taking on his wolf's form.

When it was done he went back to the blanket, licking over Sam's cheek.

He felt him stir and sensed a weary shifting. Wouldn't it have been so dark he would've seen the small smile that let Sam's lips curl up slightly. The wolf laid down beside him, rolling to his side. Sam's eyes closed for a moment, gathering all the strength he had left and inched closer to the animal. Soft fur caressing his exposed skin. He inched even closer, getting drawn towards the warm body like a moth to the lightbulb.

Dean offered the most of comfort he could give, laying still until Sam was settled. The human had curled up against his middle, his head resting on the side of his ribcage. Dean then curled up around Sam, trying to give him as much body-contact as possible. The human nestled into the long fur and the wolf's body, sniffing silently.

Dean would've growled comfortably, wouldn't it have let on their position. While Sam's breaths evened out again, the wolf kept his senses high alert to the world outside of the cavern. He heard and sensed movements of his kind on the outside every now and then. He hoped dearly that they wouldn't try to crawl thru the hole and that the skunk-tonic would last long enough to cover his and Sam's scent.

… _... to be continued_

* * *

  
  


** Of Werewolves And Humans **

** Chapter 11 ~ There You Are **

THEN:

_Dean would've growled comfortably, wouldn't it have let on their position. While Sam's breaths evened out again, the wolf kept his senses high alert to the world outside of the cavern. He heard and sensed movements of his kind on the outside every now and then. He hoped dearly that they wouldn't try to crawl thru the hole and that the skunk-tonic would last long enough to cover his and Sam's scent._

* * *

NOW:

Hours that felt like years passed …

Dean didn't dare to move, nor shift, and even for him it started to feel cold in the meanwhile. How long could it possibly take for Bobby and the other's to find them?

Another full-body-shiver let Sam's form tremble violently and he nestled closer into the warm comfortable fur. He buried his toes in between Dean's hind-legs to warm them up further. It didn't feel that cold anymore – but he also was far away from comfortable at all. Sam blew out a long shuddering breath. The small cuts and bruises from his fall from the slope burned and rubbed against the fabric of his torn clothes when he shifted. Sam dozed along, trying to not slip into sleep, just like Dean had ordered him to.

Every time he fell too silent and wouldn't move a at least a bit, the wolf nudged him with his wet snout. So Sam did him the favor and shifted, or moved his – in his fur tangled – fingers every now and then. Even when it was just minimalistic. And the wolf seemed to be satisfied with these little signs of counterfeit.

* * *

Then finally – after what felt like eternity – Dean sensed a shift in the air. And moments later, he heard a rustling and shuffling, barks, howls and pained yelps shattering the cold night's air. The wolf shifted – for the first time in hours – and nudged Sam's shoulder with his nose.

Sam sniffed and shot a glance in the direction where the entrance had to be, and even if he didn't see anything, he stared at it.

The younger Winchester uncurled slowly and the hair rose from his neck, all down over his spine. He growled and gave a full-body-rumble from him.

Sam uncurled slowly from the position he had been in for hours – still staring at the hole. He hadn't bargained with the dizziness that overwhelmed him the very next moment. He reached for the wolf, that still lay beside him and tangled his fingers in the soft hair, waiting for the episode to pass.

Sam swayed in his sitting position, fighting against exhaustion and for conciousness at the same time. But it was no use. - His body took control over his mind. And his body was the one yelling at him to give the hell up and stop fighting.

… his mind didn't stand a chance in this case.

* * *

Dean pulled his jeans up and slipped into a shirt he had pulled out of his duffel, shooting glances at Sam all the time. He had passed out just minutes before and there had been no way to get him back to conciousness.

The human was hypothermic and exhausted. - He shouldn't have left his father and Sam in the cabin. He should've taken them with him. They could've got their belongings the next day.

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed audibly. Cursing himself not to have done so.

He should've known that they wouldn't leave anyone alive. - At least no witnesses or victims.

Dean hurried back to the human on the ground and picked him up as if he weighted nothing. He then carried him to the hole that led outside and laid him down there. - _How the hell were they supposed to get him out there again?_

„You ready?", he called out.

„Sure. - I'll grab his shoulders from here.", he heard a gruffly familiar voice.

All Dean heard was the rustling of clothes and two long arms that reached inside. He shifted the human forward, carefully not to hurt his neck or head and saw two strong hands gripping at the torn fabric of Sam's shirt.

„Take care of his head.", Dean called out, watching the body before him being pulled thru the hole.

Once outside, Caleb (A man in his forties, grey eyes and short hair well-combed to hide most of his half-bald head.) wrapped a thick blanket around the human's shoulders and another one around his incredible long legs.

Dean joined them seconds later. He looked around, seeing not just the corpse of the female wolf. There were three more now. - _One was missing though._

Dean gathered Sam in his arms, the human's head lolled into the crook where the wolf's neck and shoulder met. „Dad?", he asked into the round.

„He's fine. - Still out for the count but fine.", Bobby answered panting. „What about you?"

Dean shook his head. „I'm fine." He sniffed and shifted Sam in his arms, long legs tangling from his hold. „Where's the car?"

„Right up in front of the cabin. Got John on the bed of the truck.", Caleb answered, „Did you see how many there were?"

Dean nodded. „Five."

„Means one's still out there.", Bobby grunted and shook his head. „You two – go and change, I'll get ya' clothes.", he pointed at Ash and Caleb.

The both male's nodded and stripped off before they did so. Bobby collected their clothes and soon they were on their way to the cabin. Dean held the human in his arms close – _so close_. He wouldn't let go of him. Not even handing him to Bobby, so he'd have time to relax his muscles for a couple of minutes. Just because Sam was _his_. **His alone.** His responsibility, his live, his mate – His everything.

The Fifth wolf didn't appear during their long walk thru the woods. There were no signs of him at the cabin, nor on their way to the Salvage. And Dean wasn't sure if this was a good sign, or a bad one.

He sat in the backseat, Sam leaned against him, his warm tender exhales brushing over Dean's neck. The wolf tugged the blanket tighter around Sam's shoulders and his neck, where it had slid down before. He felt Sam's skin again – He was cold. _So cold._

Sam remained silent. Eventually during the drive, he had opened his eyes for a few moments. But he was mainly shivering what meant his body started to fight.

Probably the only good thing that happened today – besides finding Sam alive.

* * *

Dark-brown and white fur waved in the soft wind as the wolf broke through the skirting of the woods. He held towards a small farm about a mile away. His giant paws hit the uneven soil with muffled thumps and he took one of the fences in a giant jump. Then another one and before he reached the porch of the main-house he started to morph into his human form.

He grabbed the blanket that was thrown over the rocker and wrapped it around his waist before he entered without knocking.

Three men turned around and eyed the in dirt-covered man with wide eyes. A small fire was blazing small orange sparks up and the wood was crackling silently. The interior looked like gripped out of _Gone with the Wind._

„Where's Deryl?", the man panted, holding the blanked to his body with one hand.

„Upstairs ...", one of them answered and swallowed hard. „Where' _s_ …. where _are_ the others?"

The man shook his head. „Dead. - _All dead._ ", he choked out and shook his head with a sniff, „They killed them all. One of them killed _her_."

* * *

The truck stopped short behind the Impala in front of Bobby's house. And not a single moment later, a giant black wolf jumped from the bed. His legs obviously still weak and his sense of balance still out of the usual. Though the wolf made it around the car and his way swaying towards the Impala's backdoor.

Big brown eyes darted through the window beside him onto the backseat, seeing his son and the human covered in blankets. His look met Dean's and he gave the older wolf a short nod, signaling that everything was okay with them – at least as okay as it could possibly be.

„Sammy.", he whispered gently, and brushed over the younger man's cheek wich still felt too cold for his liking. „Sammy, we're here."

The human gave a silent groan and shifted a bit, nuzzling into Dean's neck.

„I'll get you inside.", he said then, pulling his arm out behind Sam. „We'll get you all warmed up, Sammy. - Then I'll let you have some sleep, okay?"

Sam's limps felt heavy and of no use. Not even his mind would let him understand the spoken words. All he knew was that it was Dean talking. That he felt the younger Winchester's body next to him.

With Bobby's help, he maneuvered the younger man out of the backseat. Carefully not to bump his head on the frame and lifted him up in his arms, carrying him up the stairs and over the porch. He hadn't even reached the door when it opened from the inside and a middle-aged tall guy stood before him. Grey cool eyes observing him and the human warily, before a small smile tugged on the man's lips. A smile that didn't reach his eyes.

A flash of disgust crossed his face, as Dean went past him, carrying his precious upstairs. The younger Winchester heard the man mumbling and a growled „ _Shut up_ " from Bobby right afterwards. Actually he didn't care what problem Thomas had right now. He had other things to care about. Things like _Sam_.  
But he sure as hell was able to _imagine_ what Thomas' problem was. - **The human.** Thomas had never been a friend of them. When he would've had a say in it, they could've all been slaughtered and he'd given a damn about it.

Just like Dean until three weeks ago.

Dean heard heavy footfalls behind him on the stairs and watched Bobby pass him, going for the bathroom. When Dean entered it, warm water was running into the bathtub and the old man was laying out some towels on the floor and placed a stack beside the sink.

Dean gave him a grateful nod before Bobby left the bathroom and shut the door behind him, giving the men their needed privacy.

Without hesitating, Dean laid the human onto the floor and started to peel the blankets and torn fabric from Sam. „I'm giving you a warm bath.", Dean muttered as he cut away the jeans and shirt and then his boxers. „Gettin' you clean and all warmed up again, Sammy. - You'll see."

Dean eyed the dirty face and sticky hair of the younger man carefully. His lips were still a little bit blue, but not that bad anymore. Most of the grease was dried mud and just a little of it blood.

And just like that, Sam decided to come back from his unconscious status. He shifted a little bit, feeling the hard surface under his body. But this time it wasn't that cold. It was warmer where he was now and he heard water, felt the warm steam making the air heavy. He felt hands on his shoulders and saw a smiling face appearing above him. Gleaming green eyes looked down at him.

„There you go, kiddo." Dean grinned and helped Sam to get into a sitting position. „Bathtime."

Sam nodded. - He felt gross and ugly … and dirty. And actually pretty naked. His eyes widened and he started to struggle against Dean's hold.

„ **No**.", he breathed gathering all the strength he had left in him. _He wouldn't would he?_

„Hey." Dean rose both hands in surrender, showing his empty palms. „We're just getting you clean, okay? - Just a bath."

Sam eyed him warily, trying to recall what had happened, how he got from the cavern to here. Then he nodded hesitantly.

„Fine." Dean rose, holding his hand out to him.

Sam took it, with his other hand preserving of little dignity he had left, covering as much as he could from the other man's eyes. He let himself being pulled up on his feet. - His knees buckled. With a little bit of Dean's help he got into the tub and sat down. He leaned back and frowned at Dean while the water rose steadily.

After a while Dean turned the water off and poured some soap inside, while Sam fought to keep consciousness. But his eyelids were too heavy. He was too exhausted, too tired. And the overly warm water didn't help it either.

Sam looked at Dean – who sat beside the tub - the entire time. He then lifted his hand up from underneath the water and laid it over Dean's, tangling his fingers in the wolf's. The younger Winchester smiled at him and squeezed his hand gently and Sam gave a small smile back before he drifted off into darkness.

* * *

Dean got him all cleaned up. He also washed Sam's long hair and inspected the small cuts on him as soon as he had brought the human to the bed one door further down the corridor. He got him dressed in a pair of boxer briefs and pyjama bottoms.

Bobby had prepared a stack with blankets, that sat on a chair on the end of the single-bed furthest from the door.

The younger Winchester laid the human on it. Then he took two of the blankets and spread them over the human who was already covered by a thick comforter, so he'd warm up properly.

He eyed Sam's bed – the one furthest from the door – and the other one that was probably meant to be his – the one closest to the door. A glance at the watch on the nightstand beside his bed showed him that it was close to five in the morning and with that he felt exhaustion and tiredness hitting home.

Dean yawned and stole a last glance at the sleeping human before he crawled under his own comforter and turned to the side to face Sam.

Just for a couple of hours, he told himself, then he'd shove the beds together.

* * *

Dean had slept just a couple of hours when he heard loud growls and voices from the kitchen. He blinked his eyes open with a disapproving sigh. The first thing he saw was Sam. - Sam just like he had tugged him under the blankets, slow and deeply breathing. His cheeks flushed from the warmth and his eyes moving behind the lids – he had to be dreaming.

A smile tugged on Dean's lips, but faded again as he acknowledged the distance between them. - This didn't feel right, not even a little bit. And though he decided to accept the separated bed-situation for the moment. He'd ask Sam how he'd want it later, when he would wake up.

But first he had to hush the damn idiots downstairs before they'd wake him up. So he threw his legs out of bed and connected them with the hard-wood-floor silently. Dean glanced again at the other bed and smiled like a seventeen-year-old that just had seen his sweetheart.

He then stood up and walked over to Dean, with one finger brushing over Sam's temple and down over his cheek towards his yaw. His smile faded slowly and got replaced by a concerned expression.

Sam felt warm. _Too warm._

Dean frowned and laid his hand on Sam's forehead. Hell, he should've known that something wasn't right. He hadn't woken once to Sam's screams or uneasy sleep.

The human was running a fever.

Dean groaned, and shook his head. Something they didn't want to deal with at all right now. Sam had just recovered half-way from his wounds and now this? Honestly? What else had fait planned for the human?

The fever seemed low and otherwise Sam looked like he was fine. Maybe just a small infection after their camping-night. - Probably just a tiny bug, that'd go away with enough fluids and rest and some Tylenol.

He couldn't blame Sam's body after this night. - Not at all. He hadn't even recovered completely from what he had been through before. Dean could only blame himself for not being alert enough.

Dean made a mental note to phone Ellen, if Sam wouldn't improve until tonight. Further he changed his plans for today. He'd stay with Sam and would have a close eye on him. Would let him rest, instead of trying and introduce him to those he hadn't seen yet.

With another sigh he tore his gaze away from the human and headed downstairs, hearing upset voices as he left the room and went down the stairs. He rounded the corner into the kitchen, where the offspring of the voices was.

Bobby, John and Thomas stood there – in the middle of the room. They stilled as soon as they notices Dean entering and their heads swept towards him.

John and Bobby tried to smile, but failed miserably. Thomas just stared holes into Dean's head and chest and then at the floor.

„How's Sam doin'?", John asked finally, while Dean tried to ignore that they just stopped arguing as he had entered the room.

The younger Winchester shuffled to the fridge and opened it, lurking inside. „He's runnin' a low fever.", he answered and took out a bottle of milk. „Need to call Ellen later, if it's gettin' worse." He unscrewed the bottle and gulped half of it down.

Dean ran a hand thru his sleep-ruffed hair and gritted his teeth, placing the bottle a second time on his lips and emptied it. Then he took a bottle with Gatorade out and cocked an eyebrow. The younger Winchester turned towards the men and looked at Bobby with a wide grin. Having a pack like this was more worth than all the money in the world. Dean could tell.

The oldest among them knew exactly what they'd need for a human that was still recovering. He had also filled up the fridge with a whole lot of stuff they would never eat – but humans would.

„You're the best, Bobby.", Dean grinned. „You don't have any Tylenol around, have you?"

Bobby nodded. „I stucked up our medicine chest actually." He grinned back and pointed at the kitchen-drawer to Dean's left.

Thomas growled disapproving and turned away from them with a disgusted look, muttering something under his breath.

A low rumble tore from Dean's throat and he put the Gatorade and the Tylenol on the counter (with way more force than necessary). He then turned around, his nostrils flaring and his mouth formed into a thin line that'd tell everyone to back the fuck off. His eyes gleamed dangerously at the pack-member.

„You got something to say? Then say it, Thomas. - NOW. Or suck it up.", Dean growled.

The man turned towards him, eying him from tip to toe. „A human? - Honestly? _YOU_?", he snapped.

„Stop it, Tom.", John hissed.

„Yeah. _\- A human._ Got any problems with it?" Dean took a step towards the other man as he asked snarling.

„It happens that i have a problem with it.", he snarled back, making himself bigger. „He doesn't belong here."

„Tom, _please_.", Bobby threw in with warning voice, watching Dean's behaviour closely. He knew how fast wolves could freak out when it was about their mates.

„He belongs to me. - So he belongs here. Just like _everyone_ else in the room." Dean's yaw clenched, the muscles in his neck worked, his hands balled into fists.

„Either you're gettin' him out here, or I WILL. -Your choice." Thomas growled and gritted his teeth, ready to pick up a fight right there.

„Sam's not going anywhere." Dean's voice was calm – just like the lull before the storm. „He's staying here with me. - If you like it or not."

„Oh – I guess then I've to proof my point a little bit different." And with that, Thomas hands clenched into tight fists and his back started to deform slightly.

„Thomas. - Stop it." John stepped in between his son and the other male, locking his eyes with him. „The hunman's _his mate_.", he spoke then silently, his gaze never letting go of Thomas. „We won't ditch him. - No matter what he is or who he is. He belongs to us like you do. - Like everyone else does in this house." John remained completely calm and determined. „Even if it wouldn't be like that. - He needs shelter. - Even if he doesn't realize it right now – he'll need his pack."

Thomas' expression morphed from fury to confusion and into a manic grin. Then a short hysterical lough ripped from his throat. „Can't be ...", he chuckled dismissive, „ _You_?" He looked at Dean in disbelieve. „ _YOU_ and a human?"

Dean tilted his head to the side and cocked an eyebrow. „You heard it. - And even if he'd be a rabbit, I'd protect him from EVERYTHING."

Thomas gave another lough. „He's a freaking _nutcase_." He sniffed. „Guess that's not what Dean Winchester wanted, is it?" Thomas frowned, eying the younger male challenging. He was out for blood and damn well would get it. „You honestly have the worst luck ever of all of us. - Probably better i'd free you from him before the both of you get bound to each other for good ..."

Dean snarled, his eyes glinting in rising rage.

„Shhhh.", Bobby hissed sharply and all of them froze. - _Just like that._

There were silent steps – that definitely came from the stairs – audible. And then they stopped. - Just like that.

Dean shot Thomas a warning glare. Thomas cocked an eyebrow as respond. Then the younger Winchester grabbed the bottle with Gatorade and the Tylenol and passed the men, heading out of the kitchen and that was the moment when he heard a door slide into a lock – ever so silently. He stopped for a moment, before he continued his way towards the room they were sharing now.

Dean then stopped as he heard bare feet shuffling over the hard-wood-floor on the other side of the door and then a squeak from a mattress followed. He listened and heard the rustling of fabric, leaving Sam the delusion of not being caught in the act.

Though he wondered how much Sam might have heard and how much of it he understood. Not that he thought Sam was stupid. - No way. He sure as hell wasn't. Just … Thomas' words could've been hurtful for someone who didn't know the wolf like Dean did.

… Hell, these words could've been hurtful for everyone to be honest.

… _... to be continued_

* * *

  
  


** Of Werwolves And Humans **

** Chapter 12 ~ Not Letting You Go **

THEN:

_Though he wondered how much Sam might have heard and how much of it he understood. Not that he thought Sam was stupid. - No way. He sure as hell wasn't. Just … Thomas' words could've been hurtful for someone who didn't know the wolf like Dean did._

… _Hell, these words could've been hurtful for everyone to be honest._

NOW:

When Dean entered their room, he saw the human sitting on the bed. His elbows braced on his knees and his head resting in his big hands. The wolf let the door slide into the lock silently behind him.

Sam looked up, his cheeks flushed even when his skin remained a couple of shades too pale for Dean's liking. His ever so hazel-green eyes in a haze of fever that was running thru him.

The older male managed a small smile, but Sam didn't smile back at him. He just sat there and looked at Dean with an ashamed expression in his eyes, as if he had done something wrong, as he was guilty all the way.

Sam swallowed visibly and looked aside. „ _I'm sorry._ ", he whispered barely hearable. „I didn't mean to be a burden. _Ever_." Sam's eyes met Dean's. „I might not know the meaning of being a mate. - Not in the way you do. But … I … I don't want you to feel responsible for me." He looked aside again. „It wouldn't be fair." He managed a sad smile. „It feels good when someone steps in for me. - And I'm grateful for that. I really am. - Because it feels _real_ good. I feel wanted." Sam looked up at Dean, who stood there with a bottle in his left hand and something else in his right one, just staring at him. „I haven't had that ever since mom died." Sam paused. „But you don't have to do that, you know? - Protecting me." _…. I'm not worth it._

Dean stared at him – first in shock … than in something that wasn't quite nameable. This was way more – and in whole sentences - Sam had ever said before. He was _talking_ to him. Not because Dean had asked him something. - Without being ordered to do so. And for a moment Dean didn't know what to say to THAT. Because Sam sure as hell didn't know what a werewolf's mate was meant to be. But he knew that Sam deserved to be loved and protected like every other being did.

And Dean said nothing. Nothing at all. For a moment longer he stood there and then … then he just walked over to Sam and squat down before him, putting the Gatorade and the Tylenol aside. Sam was following his movements warily. Trying to figure out if it had been okay to talk without being asked something, or if Dean would appreciate it.

And Dean took Sam's hands in his, cradling them in between his palms and fingers and smiled. He just smiled. Sam looked like the thirteen year old right now. Like the way he had looked at him, when he had brought him home to Sam's house all these years ago.

„You don't have to KNOW what a mate is. - Either you FEEL it or not.", Dean explained calmly. „I can't expect you to feel the same way I am feeling for you. Because you're not a wolf. _You're human._ \- Our souls might be bound, but that doesn't mean that you have to feel the same way I do. - Would you be a wolf like me it'd be different. You'd _know_ from the moment you sensed me. But I can't expect that from you." Dean sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. „Usually my mate'd be a wolf, you know?" He looked at Sam, searching his eyes and face for understanding. „Just in rare cases … mates are something different … and it barely works out well then." _… usually they'd turn a human into a werewolf. But then Sam wouldn't be the same again. He'd be a turned one, filled with the need to kill. Filled with rage and anger and bloodlust._

Sam tilted his head to the side, trying to read in between Dean's words.

„Are you …" Dean sucked in a shuddering breath. „Are YOU feeling something about me?"

Now Sam frowned, his eyebrows furrowed and big hazel-green eyes looked into his. He dropped his gaze and thought – _thought hard._ Then he looked up again, with something like sorrow in his eyes.

The younger Winchester swallowed hard and his gaze dropped to their feet, staring onto Sam's naked toes.

„You don't have to answer that. - It's … it's _stupid_. I shouldn't have asked …" Dean stood up and let go of Sam's hands, muttering something into his breath. „Just get back into bed." He turned around, placing the bottle on the nightstand, avoiding Sam's gaze. „You're running a fever. - Your heart's beating a little too fast." His voice was watery, so were his eyes. „Drink the Gatorade and I'll bring you something to eat a bit later."

Dean walked away from him towards the door and laid his hand on the handle, glancing back at Sam. „I'd wish that we could become friends, you know?" A sad smile tugged on the male's lips – _just on his lips_. „That's all I'm asking for. - _Just friends,_ Sam."

Then he was gone. Just like that.

Sam sat there – even minutes later – thought about what the feelings meant that he _had_ for Dean, but couldn't name them. Couldn't tell the other male what these were correctly, so he had said nothing. And now he regretted his decision. Maybe he should've tried to explain, that from the first moment he had seen the older male at school, that he KNEW who he belonged to. And then – when Dean came for him, helped him getting thru the day with all these bullies and his father … it had felt like coming home. He had felt so different – and was still the same being.

Sam eyed the bottle with the blue liquid for a moment, before he took it. He uncapped it and took two long sips, before he crawled back into bed. He felt like crap. Not only because he felt sick, but also because he had sensed Dean's disappointment as he hadn't answered. He could at least had said _something_. He owed him that much.

Dean and the others had saved him – for a second time. Had taken care of him, had patched him up. Hadn't laid a hand on him ever since he was with the … pack. He owed them and he'd make it up to them as soon as possible. **He'd make it up to Dean.**

SPN ~

Dean sat on the porch of Bobby's house and took a swig from his beer staring into the yard – blankly. He didn't hear the front door open and close again. Didn't hear the footsteps behind him and the creaking floorboards. He didn't sense the narrowing wolf that came up behind him. - Just because he was too deep in thoughts.

With a „ _Hey there_." he got torn away of his deep thoughts from an omni-present pack-member. _His dad._

Dean sucked in a breath and looked up at his father, as he sat down beside him with a deep sigh. He held a glass with burbon in his hand, staring at the content of it. „I can hear you sulking from in there ..." He rose an eyebrow upon his son. „Did Sam hear us?"

Dean just glanced at his father and his shoulders hunched forward even more with the weight they were baring right now.

„Figured." John took a swig from his glass and a second one.

„He talked. I mean: really talked." The younger wolf paused for a moment, staring into nothingness in between his feet on the ground. „And I asked him if he's feeling something for me …"

This was a first time for John Winchester. He had never seen his son that depressed EVER. Usually he had been the one who had broken up with a girl, or had just left before breakfast. And now – even after nothing had happened – his son was down just from that? That wasn't the Dean Winchester he knew.

After Dean didn't continue, John cleared his throat. „And what did he say?" He eyed Dean closely, saw unshed tears sparkling in his son's eyes.

„Nothing … he said nothing. Just looked at me like I'm an alien or somethin'." Dean chuckled nervously. „To be honest: What did I expect to happen? That he'd jump on me or somethin'? That he'd say, that it's cool and that he'd love to be my mate until death tears us appart?"

John frowned at the sarcasm in his son's words. „In fact we're something like aliens, you know?" He had a sly grin on his lips. „I know it's hard, son. - It's damn hard.", he added silently, his grin gone now.

Dean nodded. „I wanted to build a house. I wanted so much things …", he talked to no one in particular.

„You can still do that.", John gave back.

„How? - And for whom? - For my not-mate-wife?", Dean asked sarcastically. „ Or for my mate-human?"

John chuckled and shook his head. „Just wait and see. - He didn't freak out, did he?"

Dean shook his head pensively.

„See? - You can't know what's gonna happen. He might's going to surprise you." John petted his son's shoulder enthusiastically.

The front door opened and Thomas lurked outside, spotting the two Winchester's on the top-step of the porch with a malicious grin. „Hey. - Your human's pukin' his internals out.", he stated as if he was telling him that dinner was ready.

Both men's heads snapped around. Dean was on his feet and upstairs in no time. Bobby was already there, sitting on the bed and holding the human around his shoulders, while he held a basin in the man's lap so it wouldn't topple to either side.

The acrid smell of spew crawled up Dean's nostrils.

„Sam?", Dean breathed and was on the bed's side in the very next moment, crawling on it to take Bobby's place.

The both men shared a look and Dean gave him a short nod, saying I got this. Sam's body tensed again and he started dry-heaving. The older man eyed the contents in the basin. Just blue and saliva – the only things Sam had in his stomach anyway.

„It's okay.", Dean whispered. „Get it out." He brushed Sam's sweat-dump hair back, feeling his forehead in the process. He was burning up …

Ellen.

Finally Sam's body relaxed and he would've slumped back into the pillows, wouldn't it have been for Dean supporting him. He laid him back gently and brushed the overlong bangs out of Sam's face. He was pale and his cheeks were flushed from the fever. There was a thin sheen of sweat that covered the human's skin.

Sam trembled and panted slightly.

In the very next moment there was a hand beside the younger Winchester, offering a thermometer to him. He looked up on the arm and found a concerned John Winchester on its end, frowning at Sam. Dean nodded at his father and took the thermometer, just to tug it a movement later into Sam's armpit.

Dazed eyes watched the younger Winchester from below, as he felt the weight of the basin lifted from him.

Sam coughed weakly, trying to get rid of the tingly feeling in his throat. „'m sorry.", he muttered, closing his heavy eyelids.

„Nah. - For what?", Dean managed a gentle smile and pulled the thermometer out, as it started to beep. „102.9." He frowned and looked down at Sam. „You're runnin' a fever, kiddo."

Sam blinked his eyes open lazily. The whole room spun around him and he felt worse than just crap. Worse than he had ever felt before. He closed his eyes again so he wouldn't see the furniture moving in circles around him. He felt a gentle hand on his chest and a cool cloth on his forehead. He FELT Dean beside him. Murmuring.

Dean eyed the bottle with the Tylenol and frowned. It'd probably would come back up as soon as Sam swallowed it. He scooted back on the bed until he leaned against the headboard.

„Sammy?", he asked softly and ran a finger over the human's shoulder.

Sam lifted his heavy eyelids, gazing in Dean's direction. His eyes focused and unfocused again, but he seemed to recognize him.

„You're still feeling sick?", he asked then.

„No.", Sam breathed. „Just tired."

The younger Winchester looked up at his father on the side of the bed, biting his lower lip. Then at Bobby on the other side and sighed deeply. „Would you call Ellen? Ask her if she can make a stop here? Having a look at Sam?"

The eldest among them gave him a nod and left the room. John pulled up a chair beside the bed and left them too, just to return with a cup of coffee and a plate with raw bacon, about ten minutes later. He knew his son had to eat. He had to be ravenous by now. Changing their forms did this to them all the time. And meaty stuff was the best way to regain strength.

Dean set the bottle on Sam's lip and let him take small sips, before he went for the bacon and coffee.

John slumped down in the chair beside the bed and yawned. He still felt the effects of the narcotics in his system.

Sam fell into a light slumber minutes later, cradling one of Dean's arms in his hands, holding it close as if he could vanish any moment.

Caleb and Ash brought juice and more coffee for Sam and Dean later. The younger Winchester knew that they just wanted to snatch a look at the human that was representing some kind of baby-puppy now, that needed to be watched out for. It was a weird thing, that always the youngest among them got the extra portions of food and was the most protected member of them.

Dean could trust them. He knew they wouldn't let Sam get hurt. They would care about him like they cared about each other of the pack.

There was just one he didn't trust … THOMAS. Sure they had shared their opinions on humans before all the other things happened. They have had kind of the same favors and life-style. But then again … he knew how he was thinking about humans and hunters in general. And since William Campbell had been a hunter (and not a bad one) and nearly everyone heard bells ringing when they heard that name, he'd be pretty pissed when he figured out whose son Sam was.

* * *

Finally John left and Dean and Sam were on their own again – at least for the night.

Ellen had come by and declared that Sam got a chest infection. She left antibiotics and painmeds. She got him on an I.V. and started a saline drip, gave him his first shot of antibiotics and painkillers for the upcoming night, so he'd rest more peacefully.

Sitting in nearly the same position for over three hours made Dean restless and more than just uncomfortable, but he stayed. Right were he was, leaning against the headboard of Sam's bed, his arm wrapped up in Sam's long arms. Sam's hands held his against his body in an overwarm embrace.

As less as Dean wanted to take the comfort from the human, he had to. Had to change his position or something.

So he had two possibilities. First: trying to get comfortable on the way too small bed, or shoving the other one against Sam's. Dean decided for the second possibility, since he would spend the rest of the night there.

So he untangled his arm from Sam's grip and shoved his bed flush against Sam's noisily. Sam didn't as much as gave a silent whimper and shifted, reaching for something – _someone_ – beside him. As he gripped into nothing but air, his eyes opened lazily and gazed at his empty hands until Dean came back into few – right beside him.

Bright green eyes and full lips smiled at him as he blinked at the man, who got onto the bed. For a moment he had thought that Dean was gone. That he had left him. That all of the things he could remember had been just a dream.

But they weren't.

Dean was still there .

With him.

The older male inched closer and laid his arm against Sam's ribcage again, offering it.

A weak smile and happiness ghosted over the human's face, as he curled up around the arm, claiming it for himself. Long fingers wrapped around Dean's lower arm and tugged it snug against his over warm body.

Dean took care that he wouldn't rip out his I.V. in the process.

As Sam stopped to shift and his shuddering breaths evened out again, Dean brushed one of the overlong dark strands from Sam's face and curled it around his index-finger playfully. Warm puffs of air sent a comfortable sensation all over Dean's exposed skin, as Sam buried his face into his bicep and shoulder. Dean took the human's face in, smiling gently, mapping it with his look, memorizing every single curve and dimple of it.

* * *

One of the wolves had survived – one of them had gotten away. So they'd know that Sam wasn't dead and that he had help from others like them. No pack-leader would leave it be that way. They'd seek out revenge ...

No matter what.

Dean knew that. He also knew that there'd come others for him and probably for his pack as well now.

And then there was still Thomas. Thomas who would never accept Sam as a member. But he'd accept the rules. And the rules were that they were a democratic pack (at least most of the time. And when they were not, then Bobby was their leader since he was the oldest. And never one of them would dare to call that into question).

Other than that they were doing pretty well, Dean figured. Sam had done well – at least with him and the whole wolf-thing. So there was still a little win in all this.

About the other stuff he'd think when it would come to it …

… _... to be continued_

* * *

  
  


** Of Werewolves And Humans **

** Chapter 13 ~ Bitten **

THEN:

_And then there was still Thomas. Thomas who would never accept Sam as a member. But he'd accept the rules. And the rules were that they were a democratic pack (at least most of the time. And when they were not, then Bobby was their leader since he was the oldest. And never one of them would dare to call that into question)._

_Other than that they were doing pretty well, Dean figured. Sam had done well – at least with him and the whole wolf-thing. So there was still a little win in all this._

_About the other stuff he'd think when it would come to it …_

* * *

NOW:

The man's ocean-blue eyes were filled with grief and pure white rage. He stared into the flames of the fireplace before him, holding a picture of _her_ in his hands. _She_ had been his mate. The most beautiful, amazing woman he had ever met in his whole life. When they met she had been human – way too human.

They loved each other more than life.

It had been meant for eternity.

And then … then she became sick. Bone-cancer. She was going to die. Die before their life together had even started to get really amazing. And the weaker she became, the clearer it got. He had to do something, had to change her. _To save her_ , to save himself.

Sure she had changed after that and he had known it would be different. SHE would be different. He knew it wouldn't be easy with a turned werewolf by his side. That she'd be bloodthirsty at first.

But he also knew that she'd know exactly how he felt for her, how dizzy her scent made him. How it felt to be truly someone's mate. Feelings that were more intense as a human would ever be able to feel. Senses that were so sharp and defined, it was a rush.

Deryl had to keep her on lockdown for the first year and a half. She had been too wild, too bloodthirsty. _His_ Sharon would have given them away. But then … when she was more and more able to control her need, their life together grew so very special.

They had been meant for each other.

And now …

… now she was gone. DEAD.

He never had meant for her to join his business. Had never wanted her to even know about it. But then … after a while (and the changes she had been thru, through the turning) she found ways to develop their business. To make it more and more lucrative.

They bought humans. - A crappy excuse for beings anyway. - And they made them willing. Sharon just knew how to treat them, how to teach them. They had to be young enough for starters, the rest was all about Sharon and her abilities. He didn't need to take care of anything anymore except finding locations for their events.

And now there he was … all on his own. Of course he had his pack. A pack of turned ones and shifters that were eager to become what he was. A turned shifter was more than just useful at times. Specially when it came to their business … when anyone could become everyone.

Without Sharon his whole life didn't make sense anymore. Without his mate he'd be nothing but a shadow of himself.

This giant gaping hole inside of him dared to swallow him. - No wonder most wolves chose to kill themselves when their mate died. But before he'd give into the darkest of all gorges and would vanish from the world's face he'd take murderers of Sharon with him.

_They'd burn._

* * *

Sam's fever was increasing. - The antibiotics didn't seem to be effective enough. Short after midnight, his fever had risen and wouldn't drop until in the morning. Sam had also started to cough again and had thrown up in the process twice.

Dean had attached another saline drip to keep his fluid balance up.

_103.2_

Dean didn't dare to close his eyes, didn't dare to let himself fall asleep. He had to watch over _him_ , look out for _him_. Had to make sure Sam's fever wouldn't grow any further.

Sam wasn't sleeping.

Not at all at least.

He mumbled not quite understandable things from time to time, tightened his hold on Dean's arm (wich he still held in a death grip) every now and then.

It was in the morning, when Dean decided to change Sam's sweat-dump clothes and the sheets. So he got up and went for a fresh set of clothes for the human and other sheets. He hurried to get the things changed, so Sam wouldn't have to freeze so long while he lay on Dean's half of the bed.

When the younger Winchester was done and had settled Sam back on his side of the bed, onto the fresh dressed pillow, the human looked up at him. Big hazel-eyes – dazed from the fever – beamed up at him. His breath came in short raspy puffs.

„Why did you leave?", Sam asked silently, staring into the face above him, trying to focus on jade-like green eyes. „I have been missing you so bad."

Dean frowned at first, but then smiled, deciding to go along with it. „I changed your clothes and the bedding." He eyed him closely. „Do you remember? - You're sick. You're sweating like crazy."

Sam shook his head confused. „You left. - Just moved away. I didn't even get to see you one last time. - You didn't even tell me. Didn't called … You were just gone." he frowned, laying his hand on Dean's cheek, who leaned into the touch instinctively, feeling the over-warm palm against his cool skin. „You haven't said goodbye. - I went to your house, you know? I was looking for you. But no one would know where you and your dad went. And it _hurt_ so bad ..." Sam's hand eased away from him and he laid it on his own chest, cradling the fabric in his fist, his face screwed up as if it physically hurt. „ _So bad_. - I was all on my own back then. All over again. With my dad. With the guys at school." Unshed tears glistening in Sam's eyes. His features strained. „I remember you. I remember who you were. - I liked you back then. I _loved_ you. And you just left. And then they came and took me. And I told myself that you'd come and look for me. That you'd find me … I prayed for you to come and get me. I did. Every single night at first …"

Dean stared at him in surprise and awe. He stared at Sam for a long time, taking in his words, letting them echo in his mind – even when they were spoken in a haze of fever and sickness they were meant honest. He saw it in Sam's eyes, in his face.

Salty tears streamed down Sam's face, mixing with sweat. Dean laid a hand on Sam's yaw, blinking at him.

„And I found you, didn't I?" Dean smiled, trying to keep his own tears at bay, trying to keep his voice stable. - _For Sam._

 _This was so hard. So damn hard._ Sam hadn't deserved all of this. He had deserved a normal life with a loving family and friends. And he haven't had anything of it. It tore at Dean to KNOW that it was at least partly his fault, that he could've stopped these people from hurting Sam.

If he had just listened to his gut-feeling …

The human looked up at him with big eyes and swallowed.

„I found you. - After all these years." Dean brushed the younger man's tears away. „I found you and I won't let you go again. - I won't leave again either." Promises he demanded to keep. „Whatever happens, we'll stay together." He wanted to explain the circumstances he had been under to leave without a word. Why his father had taken him away from there. But he knew it wouldn't make a lot of sense. - Who knew? Maybe Sam wouldn't remember a single word he had just had spoken later.

„Try and rest and I'll be here when you'll wake up, okay? - And if not there are gonna be John or Bobby by your side." he smiled reassuring. „You know you can trust them, right?"

Sam tilted his head to the side and nodded hesitantly.

„Fine. - I'll go and get us something to eat. Try to stay awake, I'll hurry.", Dean whispered and placed a gentle kiss on Sam's forehead. „You just rest."

Sam blinked lazily with his heavy eyelids and gave him a short nod.

Dean eventually called Ellen while he took care of their breakfast and coffee and what else they would need upstairs. He explained the thing with the fever and she promised to come as soon as possible.

Dean was gone for while – but not as long as it would've taken to make up a breakfast, as the door to the room opened slowly. A gray eyed, tall man in his mid-forties slipped into the room and closed the door carefully. He eyed the human closely while he rounded the bed, tilting his head to the side. Thomas' eyebrows furrowed and a low rumble erupted in his throat, letting the air around him seize.

„I know that you're not sleeping.", Thomas said calmly and sniffed, bracing his hands into his hips. „I figured you should know, that staying here with Dean … with us, is going to bring big troubles for the pack. - Dean and the others killed them. One got away. They know our scent and they'll come for us. They will come for Dean if you stay." His cold eyes swept over the human, whose yaw tightened as he listened to the male's words. „I just thought you would want to know about that."

A couple of heavy footfalls, a click when the door opened and then he was gone.

Sam's eyes snapped open.

* * *

Dean balanced two plates with scrambled eggs and bacon and two cups of coffee on a tray as he emerged from the kitchen. There were also a big white and a smaller yellow pill beside them. A glass of water and one with milk, since he wasn't sure what Sam'd like. There was also a tube with marigold slave on it, since he hadn't taken care of Sam's feet for a couple of days now.  
On his way upstairs he crossed his way with Thomas, who gave him a gleeful grin. „Coffee's up.", Dean called back over his shoulder.

He might not understood why Thomas was bitching around about a human in their house, but he was still a member of their pack and a friend for years now. Scratch that. He knew why Thomas was bitching around about a human in their house. Because of the very same reasons he would. Because humans meant hunters, and hunters killed monsters like them. And humans killed his mother, killed Thomas wife and kids.

So yeah, he kind of understood Thomas. And wouldn't fait had played him like THIS, he probably would've reacted that way too, if he was in Thomas's place.

Dean entered the room – still in thoughts and his head snapped up, as he spotted Sam. Walking swaying thru the room, trying to put on jeans right at the moment. Though he seemed to have some troubles with the button and the zipper and with his shaky hands.

As soon as he had stepped over the threshold he, he smelled another scent. A scent that shouldn't be there – not in their room. Not close to Sam.

Dean's eyebrows furrowed and his eyes formed to small slits. He blew out a raged breath thru his nostrils.

Sam looked up. He was heavily panting and his heart razing.

„What the hell do you think you're doing?", Dean asked, placing the tray on the bed, so he'd have both hands free in case he'd need them.

„I'm taking off.", Sam muttered under his breath, still trying to get the button through the hole.

„You're … you're what?" Dean's voice hitched, „How far do you think you'll get?"

Sam closed his eyes for a moment. „As far as possible. As much distance between us as I can. - I don't want them to hurt you or your friends or anyone else." The human coughed and held his aching middle.

„Wait.", Dean demanded, throwing both arms into the air to stop whatever was going on in the fever-dazed mind of _HIS human._ He blinked at Sam who obviously tried to focus on one of the both Deans that were standing not far away from him. „You're not going anywhere. - You stay right here. _In bed._ Until you're better. Or at least know what you're doing." He chuckled nervously at his last words. „Because I think you don't know what you're doing right now. - You can't even look streight. How do you think you get away from the yard without passing out as soon as you've reached the porch anyway?"

Sam frowned at the other male.

Dean's nostrils flared, his heart pumping blood in hyper-speed through his system. Pure rage had its claws dug into him, poisoning him fast.

Sam looked at him for a long moment. „I don't want anyone to get hurt because of me, Dean. - _Please_.", sitting back down on the bed.

Dean shook his head. „Did Thomas say that? Did he tell you that we're going to be hurt because of you?"

Sam looked aside.

„Fantastic. - Now I'm gonna tell you something, Sam: I'll tie your sorry ass to the bed if you won't do as I say. And I say you'll stay. _Right here._ \- Until you're better. Until you're not longer in a fever-induced delirium." And that was all that he said.

Because in the next moment he was right in front of Sam. Gripping the human's legs and throwing them – not so gently – back on the bed. He then threw the comforter over Sam and looked at him. So much anger – so much rage in his green firy eyes.

„You stay." Dean left no room for any kind of protest in his voice, look and gestures.

Then he dashed out of the room and downstairs, nearly bumping into his father, barging into Bobby, spotting Thomas at the very next moment beside the table with a cup of coffee in his hand.

And before anyone was able to realize what was going on, he lunged out with his fist. Thomas who saw the attack too late, swirled around, just in the right time so that his yaw connected with a flying fist.

He lost his balance and stumbled to the side, the mug crashing on the wooden floor into hundreds of pieces. All he saw – besides stars – was a second fist flying, connecting with the other side of his face.

„You **never again** enter Sam's room.", he hissed and landed another punch, this time in the other man's ribs, wich sent Dean's victim to the ground. „You **never again** talk to him without my permission."

A moment later, John and Bobby were on him and pulled him back – away from Thomas.

„Hey, calm down, son.", Bobby grunted as Dean tried to break free from their hold on him. „We can talk about this, can't we?"

Thomas got to his feet slowly, one hand on his yaw, checking if something was broken. „There's nothing to talk about.", he panted smacking his lips as the taste of copper flooded over his tongue.

„But you had a lot to say to Sam, didn't you?", Dean's lips puckered, his face red with anger and his eyes _burning_ greenish like those of an animal. „Someone who's already on the ground? Someone in the middle of a delirium? - You think that's intelligent?" He snarled. „You think it's clever to piss me off?"

Dean yanked his arms free – and the other two let him.

„Not in the house, boys.", John spoke in a warning tone, backing off a few steps.

„You really wanna do this? - Fighting a member of _your_ pack?", Thomas asked disillusioned, „Because of a _human_?"

Thomas hadn't found his mate yet. He sure had been married and had a family, but that didn't mean that this woman had been his mate. She was someone he fell in love with, someone he cared about. - But she hadn't been his mate.

Sure Thomas had been a shadow of himself when she got killed. - When his kids had been killed. But other than that … it just hadn't been the same. They didn't know each other as mates did.

„The human has a name, Tom.", Dean growled, glaring at him.

„Fine." Thomas straightened and walked past his challenger. „Lets get it over with."

Dean followed him outside, away from the house and deep into the yard. They never let each other out of their watch on their way

… **and then it began.**

* * *

John shook his head and sighed deeply. „I know they have to set things streight." He rubbed his forehead and took the glass of scotch that Bobby handed him over.

„Dean got this.", Bobby said with a hope-filled smile and gulped the contents of his glass down. „He's going to put Thomas back into the right place."

John put the glass aside without even taking a taste and gave Bobby a nod. Then he went upstairs and knocked on his son's bedroom-door. He heard the muffled sounds of a squeaking mattress and entered.

„Hey there.", he said with a small smile on his lips. Brown eyes looking at the young man, who laid on his side on the top of the comforter.

The human was shivering, his arms wrapped around his middle. And Sam felt awful. Not just that he didn't quite remember how he got there, but also the words that hung around in his mind. That he was a danger to Dean. That they would come for the pack _because of him_. And then, all of a sudden his vision went dark and he was back in his cell. Grey eyes lurking through the grid, glowing dangerously at him.

The older Winchester's smile faded slowly as he got closer to the bed, eying the human on it warily. He stopped in his tracks, his eyes darting at the thermometer on the nightstand. John snatched it from there and hurried around the big bed, squatting down beside it on Sam's side.

The human's eyes were open but stared into nothingness. He was sweating as he had run a marathon through the desert and his translucent skin looked wondrously flushed.

„Hey, son.", John tried calmly – though there was urgency on its edges. „You here with me?"

There was no reaction.

„I'm gonna take ya' temperature.", he said then, tugging the thermometer under the young human's armpit, even when he already knew he wouldn't like what he see.

105.1

„No no no ..." John muttered, panic in his voice. He didn't know a lot about human bodies, but he did know that 105.1 wasn't good. - Was _worse_ than wasn't good. „Robert!", he yelled, tossing the thermometer to the ground.

The older Winchester started to fumble on Sam's shirt, first trying to be careful. But as soon as Sam's long limps got in the way he just ripped it off of him.

Bobby appeared in the doorway, staring at the older Winchester and the human in shock. Calling him Robert had meant something bad ever since. It meant that something serious or even dangerous was going on, so he was upstairs in less than thirty seconds.

„What the hell?", Bobby frowned and then suddenly realized what his younger friend was doing. „I get the water goin'.", and with that he was out of the door again and in the bathroom, turning on the cold water at the bathtub.

When he returned into the bedroom, John had already managed to get the jeans off of the younger man and carried him out on the corridor in his arms. That was when the human started to stir and to get restless.

„It's okay, son. - You're going to feel better in no time.", John murmured – wherever to reassure Sam or himself, he wasn't quite sure.

„Please." Sam's voice broke. „Dad don't. - _Don't_ , please don't. I … it's not his fault. _Please_ don't be mad."

John's face morphed into a grim expression as he carried him another few steps until they entered the bathroom to their right.

„Sam.", he said calmly. „Sam, c'mon and look at me."

The human pressed himself weakly into the older male's chest, his head resting against his neck. He tugged kitten-soft on John's collar and started to shake. „Dean please. - _Help me … please ..._ ", the rest got swallowed by desperate silent pleas and weeping.

John lowered him carefully into the cold water, hissing thru gritted teeth at the freezing liquid that soaked thru his sleeves. Against his expectations, Sam didn't react to the coolness nor to the change in the way his body must felt like in the water. The older Winchester held him by the shoulders, as he started to curl up, whimpering and pleading him to stop. Begging for Dean to come and get him. Saving him from the clutches of his father …

„Dean's comin', boy.", John whispered, trying not to lose his grip on Sam, otherwise he'd get beneath the water's surface. „He's just takin' care of something. - Dean's comin' soon."

* * *

Dean snarled dangerously through his black nostrils, as the wolf beneath him tried to break free. His warm exhales evaporating in the perishing air. He held him down with his paws and dangerous claws. Blood dripping from the scratch on his cheek, seeping into the thick fur all over the animal's face.

He stared into a pair of grey wolfish eyes, baring his long sharp fangs, showing his opponent that there was just one way of not being killed: S _urrender_.

An icy shiver ran down his spine and tail, letting him freeze in his position for a moment, as he heard his mate's desperate calls. It wasn't like he literally _heard_ them. It was more of a feeling, sensing that something wasn't right, that Sam was longing for him from the distance.

And he couldn't. Couldn't let Thomas go. He had to wait, wait for the wolf's surrender. Had to make a point and show him where he belonged. That there was no way he'd tolerate his pack-member's behaviour towards Sam.

* * *

John leaned over the bathtub, desperately trying to hold Sam's head over the surface, even when he fought the older Winchester. Sam's wet, slippery skin didn't make it easy for him to keep his hold, but the human had to stay some longer in the water. They had to cool him down a little more – and that fast.

Robert appeared in the doorway. „Got the bed ready. - Ellen's already on her way. Dean must've called her in the morning at some point. - She's bringin' the good stuff." He cleared his throat. „How long's he been in there already?"

John shrugged. As if he had time to check his watch right now. „Some more minutes.", he muttered, „Then we'll get him back into bed."

… _... to be continued_

* * *

  
  


* * *

** Of Werewolves And Humans **

** Chapter 14 ~ Calling For You **

THEN:

_Robert appeared in the doorway. „Got the bed ready. - Ellen's already on her way. Dean must've called her in the morning at some point. - She's bringin' the good stuff." He cleared his throat. „How long's he been in there already?"_

_John shrugged. As if he had time to check his watch right now. „Some more minutes.", he muttered, „Then we'll get him back into bed."_

NOW:

Dean Winchester burst through the front door and up the stairway, taking two at a time in the need to be with his mate. He didn't take time to put his shoes back on, nor to button up his plaid-shirt.

He stopped in his tracks as he saw the open bathroom-door and the filled bathtub, the pool of water beside it and the water drops on the floor that led directly into their room. The door there was wide open and he heard calm voices coming from the inside.

He followed the whispering and saw John and Bobby, as they worked on a barely conscious Sam to get him dried off. A towel covered his stomach, private parts and the better half of his thighs.

„About time.", Bobby huffed without looking at the youngest Winchester. „Ellen's gonna be here in ...", but then the front door and a smoky voice that called „ _Guys_?!" upstairs was heard.

„Upstairs!", Dean yelled back and hurried to the bed, shoving Bobby aside. „What happened?", he asked, glancing at his father as he took a towel himself and wiped the freshly building sweat from Sam's forehead.

„He was burning up.", John answered and pulled the comforter over the shaking human. „We had to cool him down – fast."

Dean nodded, running his fingers through Sam's hair, listening to the humans – way too fast – heartbeat. Then he glanced up at his father, giving him a grateful look.

„Thanks Dad.", he gave him a small smile.

„So I figure you've won?", Ellen asked as she entered the room with a cocked eyebrow. „Thomas looks like crap. You did a thing on him _young_ Winchester." She couldn't hide the joking undertone in her last words. Then her look wandered to the human on the bed. „I got it. - The antibiotics I gave him didn't work?"

Dean nodded.

„Okay. - First: ALL OUT OF HERE.", Ellen said calmly. „Except Dean. - I honestly don't wanna end up like Thomas." She gave him a small grin.

„But ...", John wanted to protest, and Bobby grabbed him by his bicep and dragged him out of the room without any further statement.

When the door slid shut, she shared a short look with Dean and gave him a nod. Then she put her doctor's bag on the bed beside Sam's feet and took out some vials with different labels and a syringe. Ellen then prepared a saline drip, adding the contents of the vials to the saline and attached it to Sam's port in his left elbow.

She turned the I.V. up, so that it'd be empty within thirty minutes.

Dean sat beside the human on the bed, holding his right hand. The tray with breakfast and coffee long forgotten on the floor beside the bed. Sam's forehead was creased in distress, his eyelids on half-mast.

„I gave him antibiotics, painkillers and vitamins. - I'll stay here over night to keep a close eye on Sam. - But I think he's going to be okay.", she smiled reassuring. „I'll give him another saline drip as soon as this one's through and might add another one in the morning to get his organism back on track." Then she cleared her throat silently. „Other than that … I guess we've to wait ..."

Dean squeezed Sam's hand carefully as he got restless once again. Sam muttered under his breath and the only things he was capable of figuring out was his name and the words „ _please_ " and „ _don't make me_ ". Sam squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and blew out a shuddering exhale.

Ellen sniffed and glanced at the tray on the floor. „I'll go and get us some coffee. - 'S gonna be a long night."

Dean just nodded and muttered a „ _Thank you_ ", as he laid down beside Sam, slipping under the comforter.

Ellen was already gone for a while, as the human started to shift again and started to mumble incoherent things.

„Hey, Sammy." Dean scooted closer and laid a hand on the younger male's stomach. „It's okay. I'm here ..."

The blood on Dean's cheek was already drying and the gash there didn't hurt at all anymore. It had healed up nicely within minutes as it had to be expected.

But Sam didn't do as much as whimper, obviously to far gone to recognize his surroundings and the younger Winchester beside him. So Dean did the only thing he could do … _talk_.

„You know … after I was gone … After we had moved and Dad found us this small house in the middle of nowhere … when my time in the basement was over … I thought about you.", he whispered gently into his ear, his lips so close as if they'd touch Sam's hot skin any moment. „I thought I heard you call my name. - Even thought I felt you somehow." Dean's eyes fluttered shut. „I should've been lookin' for you. I should've known that there's just one way that I was able to hear you. I should've known that we're bonded. - But I didn't – because I thought it's just imagination. I thought it's impossible. - We didn't know back then that mates aren't just werewolves. So I sucked it up. Shoved it away. Suppressed the images and memories of the time I spent with you. Because it would've made me sick." He buried his nose in Sam's hair. „I know it's a lousy excuse.", he added after a while.

Sam seemed to calm down now – Just from Dean talking to him.

„That's it, Sammy. - Just relax. Try to take it easy.", he whispered then, settling his head back into the fluffy pillow.

Dean fell silent then, just watching Sam's face, feeling his warm skin against his palm.

It didn't last long until Sam started to tremble again and a silent sob was heard. „Please. Don't leave me here. _Please_. - I need you. Need you so bad, _Dean_. Don't leave me here with them.", he begged. Literally _begged_. And the wolfman wondered if Sam had been begging for him to come and get him all the time after he and his father had left.

The wolf's eyebrows furrowed. „I'm here. You're right here with me, Sammy. _We'll look out for you._ You're one of us."

But Sam wouldn't listen, wouldn't understand. So Dean just drew him closer and enveloped him in a gentle hug, drawing him as close as possible. He then tangled his fingers in Sam's and held him. _Just held him._ „I'll make it up to you. I'll make you feel better. - Whatever it takes." Dean continued silently. „It's my fault that you had to stay with these people. _My fault_. Because I should've listened to my gut-feeling. Should've figured it out somehow. - Because that's what a good mate does."

Sam coughed violently again, his muscles tensing, his face screwed up in pain.

And Dean held him protectively in his arms, helping him through it. Helped him in the only way he could: whispering soothing promises and holding him in his arms.

* * *

Twenty-two hours later the fever broke finally, letting a completely exhausted and drained Sam behind.

Forty-seven hours later Sam woke for the first time from his nightmarish memories. The first thing he saw was Dean Winchester. A Dean Winchester that looked at least as exhausted and drained as he felt. A Dean Winchester that smiled at him, cupped his face and brushed his lips over Sam's forehead.

Sixty-one hours later Sam was able to make it to the bathroom and back into bed with Dean's help. The first time in days that he took a shower, washed his hair, shaved his beard and brushed his teeth. The first time in days that he felt _clean_ again.  
Dean had waited IN the bathroom for him. Surely regarding Sam's dignity highly as he did so. Even when the human seemed to start trusting him, he still was uncomfortable with being undressed around him. No matter how often Dean had seen the human male already without his clothes.

Something that was a lesser reason to worry about when it came to wolves. They were actually naked all the time in their animalistic form – if he didn't count the fur of course. Something Dean didn't mind, though he knew that for humans it was embarrassing to show what they owned.

And the other reason why Dean didn't dare to snatch a look at him was that Sam's body – no matter how beaten up he looked, no matter how bony he was – that he loved to look at him. He was worried that Sam'd notice the infinite affection he felt for him, since Sam seemed all too sensitive for things like this at times.

If only the human knew that they all had already seen him like god had created him. But Dean wouldn't take the illusion from him. At least – if Sam did remember – he didn't have to remind him of it. - Specially for Sam it had to be one of the last things he truly _owned_. - His dignity.

* * *

_Three days later …_

… Sam was on his feet again. Was walking around in their room and was visiting the bathroom on his own. Ash had brought a small shopping-bag with _stuff for the human_. A toothbrush, a rechargeable shaver and some one-way razors, shaving foam and aftershave from his run for errands. There had also been a small card, glued to a _Butterfinger_ , wich Sam had saved up for later.

Sam sat on the bed and was waiting for Dean to come back from the bathroom. He hadn't dared to ask if he was allowed to go anywhere else yet as he knew that there were others in the house.

So he pulled the B _utterfinger_ with the attached card from his sweater-jacket and ripped it off of the chocolate-bar, flipping it open.

_Hey there!_

_Breakfast's at 9:30._

_& eat the bar before Dean's snatching it from you. * lol *_

_We can't wait to meet ya'_

_Ash and Caleb & the rest of the pack_

A small smile ghosted over Sam's face, eying the bar in his hand warily for a long time, not sure if he should follow the advice on the card or if he should ask Dean for permission first.

Before he was able to decide what to do with the chocolate, the bedroom-door opened and a fully cleaned, way better looking Dean Winchester came into the room, wearing a smile on his lips.

The candy-bar slipped from Sam's fingers with a frightened expression on his face as his head snapped up and he saw Dean.

Big wary hazel-eyes looked at the older male, as he came slowly closer with a frown on his forehead. Dean squat down before him and picked the bar up. He then eyed it for a moment and thrust it back into Sam's hand as he rose again, wearing a mischievous grin on his face.

„Guess that's yours.", he said and patted Sam's shoulder. „What about breakfast, huh?"

Sam nodded, visibly tensing at the question.

They then made their way downstairs. Sam kept his face down, looking to the ground, but took in his surroundings like no one other. He walked short behind Dean as they rounded the corner into the kitchen and from there into the dining-room, where a big table had its place. Sam stopped in his tracks as he entered the room, feeling looks on him. He stole a short glance at the people at the table.

As bad as he wanted to follow Dean to their seats, he couldn't. His body wouldn't obey the commands his mind yelled at him.

He felt someone grabbing his hand and pulling him forward. No one said a word, but he still felt their looks all over his body. Sam bit his lower lip, as the hand let go of his and landed on his shoulder, guiding him down on one of the chairs.

The human stole a glance at the seat beside him, where familiar looking denim appeared. He felt the person beside him leaning in and a warm exhale ghosting over his earlobe.

„It's okay.", Dean whispered, „Told you, they're friends." He reached for Sam's hand again, laying it on his own thigh and squeezed it gently. „You can look at them. They won't bite you."

Sam gave a short nod, but wouldn't look up. Instead he stole a glance to his left. There was a man. His hair was short in the front and long in the back. He wore a worn out iron-maiden muscle-shirt and jeans. He kind of looked like a mullet-fan.

Sam saw as his plate got filled with biscuits, some scrambled eggs and a few stripes of bacon. Red juice from a bottle got filled into the glass before him and again he felt a squeeze of his right hand.

Sam glanced at Dean for a moment too long, so their looks met.

„Eat.", Dean mouthed and laid a fork beside Sam's plate.

Sam gave a short nod.

The others filled their plates with some of the things that were on the table. Sausages and gravy, short fried chop-steaks, bacon and other meaty food someone else wouldn't want to have for breakfast.

Dean squeezed the human's hand again and Sam gave a short nod. He knew what Dean wanted him to do. So he picked up the fork and poked around in the eggs.

Sam decided that he wasn't hungry, so he just drank the red juice that tasted a lot like strawberries. When he had emptied it, it got refilled. - _Just like that._

He emptied one more glass.

When they seemed to be done, someone started to clear the table from the dishes. He saw Dean giving the being behind him a wave with his hand and Sam's plate was pulled away too.

There was still silence. No one talked.

A mug with a beige-colored liquid appeared in front of him then and the unmistakable scent of coffee crawled up his nose. Sam stole a glance at the people at the table, his hold on Dean's thigh tightening unconsciously in the process of it.

This had to be Bobby's house. Dean had told him about it. He had told him that there'd be others. So one of them had to be Ash. The one who had written the card and glued it to the candy-bar. Sam wanted to know who Ash was. Wanted to see the guy who didn't even know him, but obviously was eager to meet him.

He knew John, Bobby and Dean. The other three were strangers to him. - Though one of them had to be Ash.

„Okay ...", Dean broke the silence, „We know one of them got away. - What are we supposed to do now?" He looked into the round, everyone was looking back at him.

Thomas cleared his throat and gave an annoyed groan in response, showing with a single look what he thought they should do, but didn't say a word.

Dean gave him a glare, that meant as much as he shouldn't fucking dare and say a single word about _the human_. Followed by a low snarl what meant as much as if he even dared to look at him once more, he'd get ripped into pieces.

„They won't come here. - They won't dare.", Bobby said calmly. „The Salvage is safe. No other pack's gonna get onto the property of another one."

John sighed audibly and frowned. „You sure?", he asked concerned, „We've killed some of their pack. They won't let us get away with it. At least I wouldn't if it'd happen to ours."

„Sure they're gonna try something at some point. - Or they just back off.", Bobby added pensively. „The female one looked like an alpha though, but the others didn't. - Might as well she was their leader." The eldest among them cleared his throat. „You guys know what you say about snakes. - Maybe we don't have to worry about anything."

„What if she was the mate of another one. - What if she was the woman Sam told Jody about? - Then there are definitely others. Or at least one other.", Dean threw in and earned a nervous hiss from his father. „And if they were mates we're screwed all the more."

Sam's hand on Dean's thigh started to shake.

A loud noise like an open palm on wood was heard, and the table vibrated under the impact. Sam flinched and pressed his back into the chair. As if on command his heartbeat sped up and he squeezed his eyes shut. He slid further down, keeping his chin rested on his chest.

Sam felt his hand being squeezed gently.

„We're screwed?" Yeah, Thomas wasn't able to shut up about it. „It's all his fault." He nodded towards Dean while he gave the human a devaluating glare. „We're a pack. - The humans should keep their trash. We got nothing to do with them. They can be glad that we're not hunting them like we're supposed to.", he spat out.

Dean squeezed the younger man's hand tighter, before he stood up. He lifted his hand (with Sam's in his) and laid it on the table. He took him in closely. Thomas' heartbeat was slow and soft, his face relaxed and his body language casual.

„We're not having this discussion again.", Dean hissed, his eyes morphing slowly into something more dangerous. „If I can't trust you, then I have to leave, or YOU have to leave."

„You give undue preference to a human you barely know? Who's insane? - You know that he won't return your feelings. EVER. You're just a monster for him and you'll always be. - As soon as he gets all his senses back he'll shoot you with a silver-round, or stab you with a silver knife as soon as he has the opportunity to do so.", Thomas countered with a bitter smile. „And you're preferring him? What about your brothers? Your pack? - You're sacrificing US?" He still seemed cool and said the words matter-of-factly.

Sam tore his hand away from Dean and jumped from his seat, shoving it backwards over the wooden floor with a creak.

Everyone's attention snapped towards Sam, who stood there. Heavily panting, his mind racing. He couldn't let this man say that. _He couldn't_. And if he'd get a beating for it, he'd take it. He'd do it. He'd do it now.

… _to be continued_

* * *

  
  


* * *

** Of Werewolves And Humans **

** Chapter 15 ~ From Me To You **

THEN:

_Sam tore his hand away from Dean and jumped from his seat, shoving it backwards over the wooden floor with a creak._

_Everyone's attention snapped towards Sam, who stood there. Heavily panting, his mind racing. He couldn't let this man say that. He couldn't. And if he'd get a beating for it, he'd take it. He'd do it._ _He'd do it now._

* * *

NOW:

Sam didn't know what rid him right at that moment. It was like an undiscovered force deep inside him that longed for its liberation. It was the need to put things right. That he wouldn't dare to hurt Dean. Ever. Even if he had the chance to do so.

Dean had saved him, had taken care of him and there was this still tender bond he felt, growling stronger with every passing day. This force – whatever it was – wouldn't allow this man to talk about him that way. Because he didn't know Sam. He didn't know – even if he seemed broken and vulnerable – that there was still fire inside the human. Although it seemed to be buried somewhere deep down anyway ...

Sam blew out a shuddering breath.

The man on the other side of the table stood now too and he felt Thomas staring holes into his head.

For the first time since he had been at the table, he looked up through long bangs, locking his gaze with the other man's.

„What is it, that you wanna do now, kid?", Thomas taunted, „Wanna fight? Like a man? Or like a wolf?" He wore a mischievous grin. „Non of both I guess. - You wouldn't dare, would you?"

Sam swallowed around the lump in his throat, as the chair beside him got shoved back, and the mullet-fan maned up beside him, straightening himself.

„I won't kill anyone here. I never did and I'll never do. Even if it means that i'm going to die.", Sam said calmly. „I never meant to be saved. I suspected my death when they got me out of the cage the last time. And I was ready to die." _… oh so ready._ Sam blinked at him, his hands trembling. „Now I'm here. And I'm thankful. I don't deserve it though. YOU don't deserve the troubles I cause – I **know** that. _Dean_ doesn't deserve it – not for rescuing me." He took a deep inhale. „I'd do everything for him. No matter what he wants me to do, I'd do it ... I would never turn against Dean. I owe him so much. I owe you all so much. I'd give my life if it's necessary to avoid -"

„STOP." Now the man with the gruff voice – what Sam figured had to be Robert Singer - on the other end of the table was on his feet, throwing his fist on the table. „We aren't discussing whose fault _this_ is. We are here to sort out how to deal with the recent situation. We HAVE TO point out what could possibly happen, so we're prepared when it comes to it."

Sam felt a hand in between his shoulder blades, pushing gently – stopping him from loosing his balance. He hadn't realized that he had been swaying until then.

The very next moment, John was beside Thomas, wrapping his fingers in a strong grip around his bicep and dragged him out of the room with nothing more than an annoyed growl.

Dean wrapped his arm around Sam's lower back as the human's knees started to buckle and dared to give out under him.

„C'mon. - Lets get you on the couch.", Dean whispered, taking his arm and guiding it over his shoulder.

A moment later there was another arm slipping around Sam's lower back and his own got lifted around a neck. And Sam just went with them into the living-room, where they sat him down on the worn out couch. A second later a glass of water was in his hands and he saw himself forced to drink the half of it.

„Better?", he heard Dean's voice beside him and someone took the glass away from him again.

Sam nodded.

Just nodded, because he wasn't able to do anything else right now. The blood in his veins was roaring through his ears, his heart was pounding in his chest. Feelings he had never felt before were washing over him and ebbing away again.

He haven't ever felt like this before. Haven't had this kind of feelings. He felt like he had to protect something, defend himself or defend Dean. Or even both of them …

Sam didn't know what he would've done, he just knew he was supposed to stop Thomas somehow. BEFORE Dean would even believe a single word he had said. He probably would've taken the challenge with Thomas if it wouldn't have been for Bobby. Sam would've done EVERYTHING.

He didn't know why, nor how … it had felt like a rush, claiming him slowly … lesser the need to hurt the one opposite of him, more like making him understand.

„Hey, you with me?" Dean kneeled before him now, his lower arms resting on Sam's thighs.

The human jumped a little and started to focus on Dean's ever so green eyes. He sniffed and without wanting it, his eyes start to tear up.

„I'm sorry, Dean." Sam muttered. „I shouldn't have done that. - I don't know what came over me … I'm so sorry. - Please … let me tell Thomas. Let him know how sorry I am." He swallowed a choked sob. „I don't wanna be a burden. - Not to you. Not to anyone … I don't know why I've done that … please ..."

And Dean smiled. Just smiled at him and then he chuckled, shaking his head slightly.

„Oh … I know what came over you." Dean gathered Sam's hands in his and squeezed them gently. „You thought he'd come in between us. - That I could possibly believe him." He watched the human's reaction on his words carefully, reading him like an open book.

And saw nothing he didn't like.

„But I don't. - I believe you when you say you won't turn against me." He cupped Sam's face in his hands and brushed the tears away from his cheeks. „I trust you. - You're my mate, the other piece of my soul, Sammy. There's no way I wouldn't. I'd know if you'd lie to me ..."

Sam nodded and tilted his head to the side, looking at the wolfman in wonder. „I don't want to cause any more problems, you know?" He shook his head pensively. Would they let him get away with his outburst like this?

Then his face lit up a little and he looked first at Dean and then at Ash who stood behind his mate. „But I can make it up to you, right? I could do something in the house? I _can_ do that." He looked into his lap before he looked back up. „I can clean it up … could cook something. - I always cooked for my dad.", he babbled away with an eager expression in his eyes – NO _all over_ his face. „I can do whatever you and your pack want me to do. EVERYTHING. - No matter what, I'd do it. _Everything_ you want from me -"

Dean rose a hand to stop him right there, something in his face changed, something Sam couldn't put his finger on. As if he had said something the younger Winchester didn't like to hear from him.

Sam stared at him for a moment and then looked up at Ash, who stared at him as if he was some alien.

The human searched their faces while the silence continued.

Then Dean blew out a deep sigh and shook his head. „Listen, Sam.", he started, clearing his throat. „Listen carefully." He caught the human's gaze. „We don't want you to do anything." He fixed him with his gaze.

Sam's face fell.

„When you're really up to it … and I mean TRULY – we'll talk about that, okay?" Dean frowned at him, a pretty serious expression on his face. He recognized Sam's shift of emotions right then. „But for starters … you could help me with the dishes?"

Yeah, Dean Winchester needed another topic. THEY needed another topic.

Sam nodded eagerly. „I could do the laundry too.", he offered instantly.

Dean shook his head. „No." He then rose to his feet. „You're still recovering. - I don't want you to overdo yourself. So do the others." A warm smile built on his lips. „Trust me on this. - You're not here to work or please us in any way. - I want you to know the others. I want you to feel safe here."

Sam nodded, lines of sadness covering his face. He wanted to help – at least do something he could. He had to make it up to them. For everything they had done so far for him.

„You understand?", he asked frowning. „We want you to feel better, feel comfortable. - And when you're up to it we'll see what you're capable of." He smiled reassuring. „Maybe you wanna go back to school? Maybe you wanna to study something?"

Okay, that was probably too far away into the future right now … but it was a possibility. One of a whole lot of possibilities.

Sam looked up at him insecurely, chewing on his botton lip.

„But for now, we're doing the dishes.", Dean stated and pulled Sam to his feet, before their conversation could take a turn again.

* * *

They did the dishes together then. Dean washed them, Sam dried them off and Ash put them back into the cupboards. Bobby, John and Thomas were outside on the yard for a long time. Sam heard them talk – sometimes they were getting louder, sometimes there were just silent mumbles, halted by hissed words. Sometimes Sam heard a low growl or rumble. - But nothing about their conversation sounded like it was a nice one. - Quite the opposite to be honest.

And yeah, Sam blamed himself for it. Because _he_ was the reason _why_ they were fighting.

* * *

Sam had gotten tired from just drying off and he cursed himself, because he felt so weak. _Too weak._ He wanted to be useful and do useful things for these people – **for DEAN.**

„Hey, if you want you can read something? - You were quite a nerd with a lot of unuseful knowledge.", Dean said joking and cocked an eyebrow, well knowing about Sam's thoughts based on the expressions on his face.

Sam's attention snapped towards him.

„I'm sure it's okay if you take one of Bobby's books. He ain't reading them anyway. " Dean smiled.

Ash sat nearby and skipped through the news paper, always an eye or ear on Sam.

Because what Sam didn't know was, that they had come to terms about how to make sure _they_ wouldn't try to get to Sam _again_. - Even when they thought that the other pack's attention was on them now. On the killers of their people …

John had said that he feared, that Sam could get into the crossfire. And Dean figured he wasn't all wrong about it. A human in a werewolves' fight didn't stand a chance. At least not when he was unarmed and when there were more than one.

Caleb yawned and stretched his limps as he entered the living-room, slumping down beside Sam without forewarning.

Sam flinched and was in the furthest corner of the couch in no time. His legs drawn to his chest, holding the book snug between his chest and his long legs.

„Caleb.", Dean sighed and rolled his eyes at him.

The man lurked up as if he was completely innocent about Sam's sudden distress. Then he looked at Sam and back up at Dean. Caleb smiled cheeky at his old friend.

„Got something for you, _youngster_." Caleb cocked an eyebrow and licked his lower lip.

Sam glanced up through his long bangs, watching the man as he rummaged in the inside-pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small book.

„There you go. - Werewolf 101.", he said and held it towards him. „When you live with us you should know some things."

The human hesitated.

„Take it.", Caleb encouraged him eagerly and nodded to where Sam held the old book. „There are a lot of things you won't find in those books."

Sam frowned and reached for the other man's book hesitantly, holding Caleb's gaze.

„I started writing it when I was about sixteen." Caleb grinned, mischief sparkling in his eyes. „But you gotta promise me that you won't show it to Dean. - It's pretty personal and we both wanna keep our dignity as long as possible, do we?" He licked his lower lip and glanced up at Dean with a sly grin.

A smile ghosted over Sam's lips as he took it and let his legs slide down from the couch again. From then on, he was hovering over the small book in the leather-cover for the rest of the day. At some point he was giggling and snorting amused and Dean was wondering what Caleb had written in there.

Even at night, when they had dinner and were done with the dishes, Sam buried his nose in it. Like it was his lifeline. When they went to bed, Sam was dressed in his pyjamas and sat in the bed, covers up to his hips by a blanket and was reading – in _the_ book.

Dean glanced at him curiously when he came back from the bathroom and slipped under the comforter on his side of the bed. Sam didn't do as much as giggle, completely lost in the written word.

„What's so funny?", Dean asked curiously and frowned. Somehow he didn't like that someone else was able to make Sam giggle and nearly lough _when he couldn't._

Sam's expression went serious. „Nothin'." He put the book on the nightstand and laid back, staring at the ceiling.

„I like it when you lough.", Dean said then after a while, feeling stupid about his reaction. _Actually_ it wasn't Sam's fault. It was _Caleb's_.

Sam glanced at Dean, who lay on his side, propped up on an elbow, facing him.

„I like it when you smile." Now he smiled too, his eyes glistening warmly. „You look like back then."

And Sam smiled, just for Dean. - Just like that.

His lips curled up a bit more and his eyes shone with affection. Dean extended his arm slowly and reached for him, as Sam turned on his side to face the other male. He then laid his fingertips on Sam's temple and ghosted over the world's cutest dimples he had ever seen.

Sam closed his eyes and leaned into the touch.

„It's nothing bad, Dean.", Sam whispered, „Just some stories ..."

The younger Winchester laid his flat palm on Sam's cheek and ghosted with his thump over the human's closed eye, feeling the softness of his skin.

Dean gathered the human in his arms and tugged him closer, so that they shared Sam's comforter.

„I know that. - But I can't help it ..." Dean closed his eyes, stroking over the human's back in soothing-like motions. „... it's the _beast_ in me.", he added with a short, soft lough.

Sam chuckled and pushed him playfully. „You're not a beast." He sniffed, his voice clouded in sincerity. „Neither are your friends and family."

Dean smiled, resting his hand between the human's shoulder blades, feeling the slow movements of his deep breaths evening out.

„You gotta sleep. - Get some rest.", the wolf mumbled silently, as Sam's eyes slid closed.

* * *

Dean awoke to an agonized cry – _once again._

The younger Winchester's eyes snapped open and he felt no body in his arms, no warmth beside him. He sat up sleepily and eyed the space beside him. He then looked around, well knowing that the threat was in Sam's mind and not actually int he same room like them.

Nonetheless it hurt Dean more than he could tell. Night after night. Sam wouldn't find any peace. Probably he'd have to deal with this for a lifetime. - Though Dean had played with the thought of getting Sam professional help. It was exhausting and draining the both of them.

Not that Dean thought he wasn't able to handle it, or live with it on longer terms. But this wasn't something to play with. Sam could slip into depressions or even worse, if he thought he couldn't deal with it anymore.

Dean could tell, that Sam thought that he was a burden to him – to the pack. _Thanks to Thomas,_ by the way. Ever so often depressions started off with low self-confidence and guilt and the feeling of not being useful at all.

„Sammy?", he asked huskily and blinked, his gaze darting through the room.

He got up silently and moved towards the corner Sam was sitting, curled up into a small ball, rocking back and forth, his hands thrown protectively over his head. Dean slid down beside him, his back against the wall and wrapped an arm around him. „Hey, Sam.", he whispered. „Why don't you come back to bed, huh? - It's cold out here."

The human's body was shaking between the wrecking sobs and the tears that were streaming down his face.

Sam just whimpered.

„Sammy. - You with me?", he asked gently and pulled him closer, unable to hide the hint of concern in his voice.

Sam nodded.

His own yell had woken him from one of his worst nightmares ever. - It had started off like always. Someone pulled him out of _his_ cage and brought him into a room. But then his dream took a turn and he had to watch like Dean and his pack got slaughtered – _because of him_. Because he wasn't dead. Because he had survived. Because he hadn't followed their orders. All of them have had their orders. Including Sam.

If they would get caught and would still be alive at that point, they had to kill themselves. They had trained them to do so. They had taken care of it that they'd do it.

But Sam didn't. In the end he hadn't done it. Because something deep inside him didn't want him to. Something had told him that he had to _survive_ , that he had to _live_.

He had screwed up – AGAIN.

„It's all my fault.", Sam sobbed and shook his head. „All my fault."

Dean frowned, unsure if he was ready for a conversation like this in the middle of the night. Deciding that he had to be ready, he asked: „What's your fault?"

He had to wait a few moments for an answer. He had to wait until Sam had himself halfway under control again.

„I didn't do it … _i didn't do it_. - I'm a coward and that's why … why ya'll have to pay. - It's all my fault." Sam babbled, shaking his head over and over again.

Dean sighed and laid his hand on Sam's head, stopping him. „Stop it. - You're gonna get yourself a concussion if you're shaking your head like this for any longer." He gently ran his fingers through Sam's soft hair, feeling silky strains gliding in between them. „We won't pay for anything. - You didn't do anything wrong, Sam. - And you're far away from being a coward. You're doing great for what you've been through."

„I should be dead, Dean. DEAD. - They wouldn't come for you if I was.", he spat out. „I had my orders and I _disobeyed_."

Then Dean thought. Thought for a long while before he responded. Trying to shove the shock and anger aside, about how a bunch of psychopaths were able to ruin a being like that. How to – at least try – and break a soul, making it pliable to everything and everyone.

„So … they gave you an order and you disobeyed?", he felt stupid to ask that way, but that was how he felt he'd do the least of damage. Besides his mind still needed some more time to wake up fully.

„I was supposed to end myself, Dean. - If we get caught … And I didn't. - I couldn't." Another ray of sobs and hiccups tore through the human's body.

„Well ..." Dean tried to keep his voice as calm as even possible. - He tried to hold the anger at bay that dared to overcome him right then. „I'm glad you didn't."

Sam fell silent for a moment.

„Why?", Sam asked. „Why wouldn you be? - I'm of no use. - _Not like that._ " He sniffed. „I'm the reason why you are in this situation."

„No. - The reason why _we're_ in this situation is, because these guys are psychotic douchebags.", Dean countered calmly. „Non of this is your fault." He paused again, thinking about his next words carefully. „You know what it means to be a werewolves mate?"

Sam looked up, wiping over his face and shook his head.

Dean smiled gently. „You know … under normal circumstances you'd be a werewolf too. - So you'd instantly feel similar or even the same for me as I do for you. You'd just KNOW how I feel about you. It'd be easier for you to deal with the fallout of what had happened to you." He paused with a sigh. „But sometimes it doesn't work out as it should. Sometimes mates aren't from the same kind." He watches Sam's face closely, trying to find out if he understood.

And Sam nodded. „Like you and me ..." He bit his lower lip and sniffed again.

„So … when this mate is from another kind … it's likely that he won't feel the same way. - It's a lot about senses and feelings supernatural beings like me and my pack are able to pick up on.", Dean tried to explain. „Humans aren't that sensitive mostly. - Except some rare ones."

Sam blinked up at him. „What does it feel like?", he asked hesitantly, disconnecting their looks for a moment. „What is it that you feel for me?"

Dean grinned, his eyes sparkled. „A lot.", he answered. „And the more time we'll spend together the more I'll feel for you. The more I'll be able to sense what you're feeling."

Sam's blushed and he looked aside shyly.

A cool shiver ran down Dean's spine, wich remembered him that they still sat on the floor. He rose slowly, taking Sam's hand in the process and guided him back to the bed. The Winchester let his mate crawl back under the pillows and waited for him to settle before he rounded the bed and got in on the other side.

„It's nothing to be embarrassed about, Sam. - It's natural." The wolfman settled his head down on the pillow. „I just wish you'd be able to understand what it's like …" He trailed off …

„And what if you'd turn me? Would it be better if i'd be a werewolf too?" Somehow Sam felt guilty. Guilty that he wasn't what Dean should have. A real mate. Someone who'd understand him, someone who'd be able to share these feelings with him.

„No." Dean's voice grew sharp, so did his features. „No way. - It'd change you. You wouldn't be the same again. You'd turn into something bloodthirsty."

Then there was a moment of awkward silence.

„But I'd be what you want me to be, wouldn't I?" Sam looked up at him, big shiny hazel-eyes gleaming with hope.

Dean blew out a breath. Sure it'd be easier if Sam would be able to sense him like Dean was able to sense Sam. There'd be this unbreakable trust without even knowing each other. There'd be this eternal flame of love that would never go out. Sam would know who he belonged to without having any doubts.

„But you wouldn't want to be what you'd become.", Dean countered silently. „And I don't want you to become a monster. - Because that's what you'd be. You'd be a killing-machine. You'd feed from humans because that's what the turned ones do."

„And you don't?", Sam asked then.

Dean chuckled. „I could. But I've no need to feed from your kind. - I'm satisfied with a chop-steak or a plate full of bacon."

The corners of Sam's lip curled up a little and he nestled closer, closing his eyes.

… _... to be continued_

* * *

  
  


* * *

** Of Werewolves And Humans **

** Chapter 16 ~ The First Time **

THEN:

„ _But you wouldn't want to be what you'd become.", Dean countered silently. „And I don't want you to become a monster. - Because that's what you'd be. You'd be a killing-machine. You'd feed from humans because that's what the turned ones do."_

„ _And you don't?", Sam asked then._

_Dean chuckled. „I could. But I've no need to feed from your kind. - I'm satisfied with a chop-steak or a plate full of bacon."_

_The corners of Sam's lip curled up a little and he nestled closer, closing his eyes._

* * *

NOW: 

_Days passed ..._

Sam had gone for Bobby's books in the living-room. He had been reading every possible book and article about werewolves and specially the chapters about what "mates" and "mating" and the weirdest things of all: "knotting" (Sam hadn't figure out what it truly meant, but the one picture he had found about it, was disturbing enough to know that he DIDN'T want to do THAT) meant. He thought that if he wanted to understand what it felt like for Dean, then he had to know EVERYTHING about wolves. He had to know about the things that weren't written in Caleb's little diary. The things he NEEDED to know (more specifically: the things he WANTED to know).

What it meant for Sam, being a not-supernatural mate. Some of the things were plainly scaring the hell out of him. Some on the other side didn't sound as bad. At least because Sam had the reassuring feeling that Dean wouldn't hurt him – at least not knowingly.

The werewolf had grown on him and Sam wasn't sure if it was because of the fact that he matter-of-factly had saved him from a way worse future (except death, since death didn't sound as bad as so many other things Sam had endured). Or if it was just some kind of friendship ... a weird feeling friendship.

Because there were these feelings. Feelings he couldn't quite name yet. But they were there – and they were growing. These feelings made him all comfortable or tingly in Dean's presence.

It felt like love sometimes. And then again ... Sam couldn't believe that it was THAT. Because then he thought about Dean and him, and the way the wolfman looked at him.

It was somehow illogical for Sam.

There was – in fact – something in Dean's eyes – sometimes – that looked like love – or at least adoration.

But Sam just couldn't believe that someone was able to LOVE him. Because of what he became ... because of what he was. No matter what he had been before all this had happened.

* * *

For Dean Winchester it wasn't that simple. The more time he spent with Sam, the more intensive his feelings became for him. (In plain english: He had the hots for the human). It wasn't just because of his unmistakable scent. It was because of everything. His smile, his movements, his lips, his eyes ... his _ass_.

And that was where Dean cut off his own thoughts.

Sam was too precious. He'd hurt the human. He'd lose all the trust he had gained so far if he would make the wrong move now or in the nearest future. Dean had to wait until he could be sure that Sam was feeling at least something for him in return. Before he'd dare and try to even kiss him. - No matter how tempting some situations between the both of them were.

And if it wouldn't work out as he meant it had to, he had to leave. Had to get away from his mate before he'd do something stupid. Before he'd do what the wolf in him longed for.

It wasn't just about sex. Well, it was also about sex. But not like that. Not the brutal and rough force as it was written in most of those old books Bobby owned. Nothing about bringing his mate into submission. It was an act of trust and love – an act that would intensify and bind their bodies and souls together in this life.

Usually they'd feel both the same way. Usually they'd seal their bond with _this act_. They'd share their love like a sacrament. Like a holy congregation.

The act of baring the one to another and vice versa. Showing each other the definite trust and love they were meant to share.

That was what the wolf in Dean was screaming for. What Dean was longing for so badly it sometimes physically HURT to be close to Sam. He was meant to bond with his mate. To share what no one else could have in the entire world – _each other._

_Two souls becoming one ..._

Dean also had started to sense that Sam was feeling SOMETHING for him – though he couldn't put his finger on it yet. Sometimes it seemed, like Sam knew exactly what he was thinking. Handed him the barbecue-sauce without being asked or getting him a beer – _just like that_ – in close to the same moment he thought that a beer wouldn't be bad.

Sam might not noticed it right away ... but Dean did. And he was more than happy about it.

Because it showed, that he wasn't alone in this. That Sam had to feel kind of similar about him. Maybe they'd be at least good friends. - Or _something_.

Maybe they had a chance to become more than what they were now.

* * *

Thomas was barely at the Salvage ever since **that** one breakfast days ago. He spent most of the time in the bar he worked at beside the highway, fifteen miles outside on the southern side of Sioux Falls. He probably felt like an outcast.

Though Dean didn't care. Not at all.

He HAD insulted Sam. HAD insulted Dean.

He didn't deserve anything else at the moment.

As long as he wasn't able to tolerate and accept what Sam was and what he meant to Dean (and the pack) now, he wouldn't be as welcome as he had been before.

Every time Thomas showed up – in Sam's presence – the air thickened and Dean grew slightly overprotective and kept himself between Sam and the other wolf. He wouldn't let Thomas closer as a couple of yards. When Dean knew that Thomas had his day off and hadn't left the house yet, he wouldn't even leave Sam alone in a room. Not when he knew that Thomas was close by ... or even inside the house.

He watched over Sam like a hawk.

* * *

It was one of these lazy mornings, when Dean didn't need to get up that early to walk over to the garage on the other end of the yard. He had the day off and all the time to spend his time with Sam. - To do whatever _Sam_ was up to. So he had figured he'd stay in bed with the human until later that morning, have an extraordinary rich breakfast and spend the rest of it, until lunch, on the porch. Sitting on the porch-swing with Sam and watching the crows and the wrecks ... or something like that.

Something simple, where he'd have all the time to FEEL Sam's presence and listen to him – even when he was just breathing.

The younger Winchester moaned silently and turned over on his back. The curtains were closed. So there was no winter-sun disturbing his slow awakening.

He groaned and stretched his limps from him, recognizing that one thing was missing beside him: A human called _Sam_. Dean's eyes flew open and a low disapproving growl ripped from his throat. He then sat up and his gaze swept through the room, awaiting to see Sam huddled up in one of the corners of the room.

The sneaky bastard managed from time to time to get out of bed without Dean recognizing it. And Sam always demanded later that he didn't remember how he made it out of bed and into one of the corners.

Surely Dean believed him. He knew what Sam had been through, that he was still suffering of what had been done to him.

As the younger Winchester realized, that there was no huddled up human around, his wolfish instincts kicked in and he strained his ears.

Maybe _he_ had gone into the bathroom.

He heard no movement on the floor, but plenty of it came from downstairs. Dean sucked in a slow and deep breath through his nose, trying to take in Sam's scent.

And it was there – fading, but it was there. And it guided him towards the bathroom. - What reminded him of taking care of his own business. As he was done, he followed Sam's smell downstairs and directly into the kitchen.

And there he was. In his plaid-pyjamas (wich still hung from his body as if they were oversized. But in fact they weren't too long. Just too wide. Showing that he was way too skinny for his hight).

Sam stood at the stove. On each hot plate a pan. The coffee-machine was gurgling. The bacon was sizzling. The eggs roasting. And the amazingly dizzying scent of grilled – bloody – steaks was filling the room.

The radio was playing silently. So silent – and still everyone in the house would hear it. Though Dean appreciated Sam's try to keep the sounds low to not wake anyone of the wolves.

Sam was moving his hips to the left and right in the rhythm of _Asia's_ hit _Heat of the Moment_ , tipping with a spoon rhythmically on the folded rag beside the stove.

A smile tugged on Dean's lips and he leaned against the door frame, watching the human's performance with a growing smirk.

And _no_ ... he wouldn't let him know that he was standing there and watching. The sight before him was just too ... _adorable_. And Dean could already imagine how Sam'd blush when he'd notice him, or see him.

At that thought, Dean Winchester had to bite back a chuckle.

The refrain came on and when the singer started with " _'Cause it's the heat of the moment. The heat of the moment .._.", Sam pointed with an outstretched index finger towards the window, shook his hips to the left and right in a way faster rhythm (wouldn't it have been for the giant guy, it would've looked girly – at least Dean Winchester had that impression) and started to turn around.

" _The heat of the moment showed in your eyes_ ", Sam was mouthing, his finger pointing at the – very amused looking – younger Winchester and he stilled instantly.

His yaw dropped, his eyes widened at the realization that he had been caught in the act, and the spoon fell from his hand, while the one with whom he was pointing at Dean sank down slowly.

The music kept playing, while Sam kept staring at Dean.

The music kept playing, while the bacon sizzled, the eggs roasted and the steaks grilled.

The music kept playing, while the coffee-machine made its last sounds, signaling that the hot black liquid was ready to be consumed.

"Better have a look at that bacon, Sammy.", Dean mentioned amused, as the human kept staring at the Winchester in shock.

Sam blinked.

"The bacon, Sam. - It's gonna burn.", He repeated calmly.

Dean Winchester was hungry. - Maybe not in the way he used to be usually ... but damn it, he WAS starving. With one strike he felt as malnourished as a wolf could possibly be. It wasn't the hunger you could mollify with a piece of meat. It was sitting deeper. It was more fundamental.

The human swallowed hard and turned around on his heels, taking the pan with bacon from the hot plate. Still embarrassed – with trembling hands – he took the pan with scrambled eggs from the stove and got the steak out of the pan before it'd be too medium for the pack to eat.

Sam shook his head slightly, so his hair eventually fell over his eyes and into his face, hiding the shame and embarrassment that dared to overwhelm him. He sucked in his lower lip, chewing on it insecurely, as he took the nine plates from the counter to carry them into the dining room next door. Sam kept his head down, not daring to look at Dean while he would pass him.

But the younger Winchester stepped in his way, a longing expression in his eyes and a dreamy smile on his lips and held his arms out towards the plates.

"Gimme that.", he said softly, "I'll get that."

Sam gave him a short nod without looking up and let the plates being taken away from him. He then turned around again and gathered forks and knives from the drawer. When he turned around to set the table with them, there was Dean again. Taking the flatware from the younger man's hands.

"I'll do that.", he just said and vanished again.

Sam swallowed around the lump in his throat, turning back towards the counter. He stood there for a moment, before his look fell on the spoon he let fall earlier. With a deep sigh he bowed down and his fingers barely touched the piece of metal, as another hand appeared and got to the spoon sooner.

He followed the hand and the spoon with his look and finally his gaze landed on a pair of emerald-green eyes. Sparkling and glistening at him. Not with amusement anymore. With pure adoration and warmth.

Sam blushed even more and he looked down on himself again, biting his lower lip harder. He felt a gentle touch on his jaw and Dean's fingers ghosting over his forehead, brushing the hair aside. The other male traced his fingertips over Sam's cheek and let them rest on his yaw, tipping his head up slightly. Sam's gaze met Dean's again.

The wolf locked his deep green eyes with Sam's hazel-ones.

His thump ghosted over Sam's lower lip – ever so gently – sending thousands of tingly sparkles through his nerval system. Sam's lips opened slightly and he closed his eyes at the sensation that washed over his whole body.

Dean stepped closer, wrapping one arm around Sam's middle, while he traced his thump over the human's upper lip, letting him feel the same sensation again.

And Sam exhaled softly, letting himself being guided closer, until their bodies met, and Dean felt Sam's flat belly against his.

Sam let his head being tilted downwards a bit more, not seeing Dean's hungry looks. Not noticing the need in the wolf's eyes to seal his full lips over Sam's tender cushions. Not noticing Dean's inner fight about what he was going to do.

Dean's lips moved closer, waiting for any sign that Sam didn't want to do this.

The human laid a hand on Dean's cheek, blowing out a soft breath as he felt Dean getting closer to him. The younger Winchester ghosted with his lips over Sam's – _asking_. And Sam did the same to Dean's – _answering_.

When their lips met, when Dean covered Sam's with his, it was like fireworks in their bodies. It was like christmas morning, like all-years-eve and easter in one go.

The wolf drew him closer and the human let him.

Dean's tongue teased Sam's lips. Not forcing. But a _sking_ for permission.

And Sam let him. - Saying _yes_.

The wolf took his sweet time, mapping and licking his way through Sam's warm mouth. He tasted like sweet coffee and typically Sam. _Just Sam._ And so much better as he ever had imagined it'd feel like, it'd taste like.

It felt like there'd be nothing else but this man in Dean Winchester's life ever more.

Sam didn't fight him, didn't push him away or something else. To be honest: He liked that. It felt like he was coming home after all these years. It felt like he finally found his place in the world - again.

Dean cupped the back of the human's head as he started to kiss him back hesitantly, getting grittier as time moved on.

And the wolf let him.

After a long while they parted, slightly breathless. Dean searched Sam's face for signs of distress or that he haven't wanted this, even when he felt that it had been alright, that Sam _had_ wanted it.

Dean needed to be sure. Needed the reassurance.

Sam smiled shyly, sucking in his swollen lower lip – unsure what to do next. What Dean wanted him to do or to say. What he was supposed to do without ruining the moment.

So they stood there for another while. Staring into each others eyes.

Sam wanted to taste him again. He wanted to have another try to make it better than before. To proof that he could do it just like Dean.

So he narrowed slowly, laying his flat palm on Dean's neck, pulling him closer. He tilted his head down once again, searching the wolfman's soft lips.

The second time felt even better than the first one. It felt like heaven and hell and everything in between. It was breathtaking and sweet.  
They didn't care if the breakfast got cold beside them.

They didn't notice John as he wanted to enter the kitchen with a happy " _Good Morning,_ boys" on his lips. Dean's father pulled back instantly, taking the other direction – no matter how bad he needed a coffee. No matter how hungry he was.

* * *

Half an hour later the breakfast was heated up again and served in the dining-room.

Thomas sat on the very end of the table, shooting confused glances at the human and Dean. Something in the chemistry of their scents had changed. Everyone sensed it – everyone at the table KNEW it.

Sam sat like always – eyes downcast – at the table, picking at the scrambled eggs and some stripes of bacon, while the others enjoyed their meat.

"That's one hell of a breakfast, Sam", Bobby looked at him with a mouth full of steak. "That's amazing. - What did you put on the steaks?"

Sam stole a glance at the gruff man as his cheeks blushed. "Salt, Sir."

Dean knew what Bobby tried. He wanted to loosen the situation. Wanted to lure Sam out. Wanted to make him look up and get into eye-contact with him and the others as well – not just with Dean.

Bobby nodded. - This had been _slightly_ embarrassing.

Sam saw Ash shift on the chair beside him from the corners of his eyes, reaching into the pocket of his vest and pulling out an " _Oh Henry_ " bar under the table. He then sneaked it into the pocket of Sam's sweater-vest.

A grin flashed over Sam's face as he realized what Ash was doing and nudged him in the side carefully. Ash grinned at him and stuffed a chunk of meat into his mouth, chewing it with a low growl.

"Better than Bobby's anyway. - He's using too much pepper ...", Ash said as he had swallowed.

Bobby groaned disapproving at Ash.

Ash gave a silent whine as the older wolf's boot connected with his shin.

John chuckled, his look swiping back at Sam. "You should've made some pancakes or waffles for yourself. - I know you aren't so much into scrambled eggs ..."

Sam glanced up blinking at the older Winchester. "I don't know how ..."

John smiled back at him. "I'm showing ya' tomorrow, okay?"

Sam nodded with a small smile.

"Me and Caleb are taking a walk on the yard later. - We're checking the surroundings. Wanna join us?", Ash asked and nudged Sam in the side.

The human's head snapped up, catching Ash's bright blue eyes looking at him.

"No way. He's staying inside. - No strolling around.", Dean said firmly, placing his hand on Sam's thigh. "We've no clue if there's someone out there."

Caleb rolled his eyes. Ash sighed deeply.

"We're two. - We're not leaving him out of our sight.", Caleb assured the green-eyed man opposite of him.

Sam looked pleadingly at his mate with giant puppy-dog-eyes.

Dean thought. Thought for a long time. He sensed that Sam wanted to go outside. He knew it'd be good for him. - Spending time with someone else but him. But there ws still overwhelming concern. Worry that Sam would get hurt when he wasn't under his watch.

Dean's look darted between Bobby and John who were looking back at him.

Bobby saying with a reassuring look: _Let go._

And his father telling him: _Trust us._

_... to be continued_

* * *

  
  


* * *

** Of Werewolves And Humans **

** Chapter 17 ~ Living Again **

THEN:

_Sam looked pleadingly at his mate with giant puppy-dog-eyes._

_Dean thought. Thought for a long time. He sensed that Sam wanted to go outside. He knew it'd be good for him. - Spending time with someone else but him. But there ws still overwhelming concern. Worry that Sam would get hurt when he wasn't under his watch._

_Dean's look darted between Bobby and John who were looking back at him._

_Bobby saying with a reassuring look: Let go._

_And his father telling him: Trust us._

* * *

NOW:

Sam got used to spend time with Caleb and Ash on the yard after breakfast. They flanked him, not leaving him out of their sight … at first.

Dean held back, was staying on the porch while they did their walks, straining his senses to take care of his mate's safety from the distance.

John had gotten warm winter-boots for the human and a super-warm jacket. Had smiled brighter as even Sam had when he handed his newest achievements to the human.

Ash and Caleb mostly kept their human form when they strolled over the yard. But lately they prefered to use their wolf ones. - Most to Dean's curiosity.

… until he realized WHAT they were actually doing with Sam out on the yard. They were playing fetch and tag and hide and seek. HIS BROTHERS were training his mate. Showing him – without him knowing – how to hide from werewolves and their senses (at least to gain advantage).

Actually it was a bit unfair because Ash and Caleb were able to smell him anyway. Though, it seemed like they were giving him advantages. Now and then they seemed to have some troubles finding him – but in the end they always got to Sam somehow.

The main-thing was, that Sam had fun. AND it looked like he improved further with every day that passed. He was able to hold eye-contact with the others very soon. He also talked to them unsought.

Sam and Dean didn't go further than kissing for the moment. Sure Dean touched him – ever so gently while they kissed. His hips, his back, his face. And the human felt so good under his touch, even when there was still fabric between their bodies. It was like the wolfman was able to feel through it, to sense what was lying beneath.

Sam seemed to get more and more comfortable with all of them. Bobby lend him books. John got clothes and other things for the human on his supply runs. Ash sneaked chocolate every now and then in Sam's pockets (and Sam stored them in the furthest corner of the upper drawer in their bedroom).

Caleb and he kept whispering about things and when Dean asked what was so damn funny, Sam just blushed. The younger Winchester knew it had to do something with the small book Caleb had given to the human. That it was about the things that were written in them.

And god knew, Dean could imagine what the both were whispering about, or talking about when he wasn't around. Sometimes he was able to catch words or even whole sentences when they were close to him. - It seemed to be that mate-thing that bothered HIS human sometimes.

Though, Dean was glad – somehow – that he had Caleb to talk about this stuff, because he himself wasn't quite sure if he'd have the patience and self-control to explain things like that to Sam.

Ellen hung around and cooked with John for lunch and dinner while Bobby was in the garage with the other men.

Thomas was making himself rare, avoiding Dean and Sam whenever possible.

Sam spent his time mostly reading, doing the laundry or helping John out with things while Dean was gone.

Besides: Everything seemed silent. There had been no signs of the other pack anywhere near the Salvage or around town. So Bobby and the others started to think that they had just taken off. That there'd be no attack or seeking revenge.

The Sheriff had passed by to let the pack know, that the shifter under her custody was dead and to ask Sam a couple more questions. The human took it better this time. He wouldn't even cry, but he was silent for a couple of days afterwards.

 _Too silent._ He hadn't even gone for a walk with Ash and Caleb as usual, instead he withdrew and hid in their bedroom. Dean could tell that it didn't pass Sam without leaving marks all over his soul again. He could feel it and it hurt that Sam was still suffering because of what had happened, of what he had endured.

Dean tried, he really tried to help him. Tried to talk to him about it. But the human wouldn't say a word about it. He didn't do anything more than giving Dean short kisses and telling him that it was okay and that he was fine and that it'd pass.

But Dean Winchester KNEW that things like these wouldn't just _pass_ …

* * *

Sam sat on the recliner beside the window in their bedroom and stared through it onto the yard. It was snowing heavily since he woke up a few hours ago. And Sam was stunned about how beautiful it looked when the icy crystals slowly sunk down to cover the frozen earth and wrecks.

A small sigh fell from the human's lips, as he laid his hand on the cool window-glass, his head resting on the soft leather of the backrest.

It was true … he didn't feel good after Sheriff Jody Mills' visit. She hadn't been mean or forcing. That wasn't it. It was because of the questions she asked, the things she wanted to know. - If he knew in wich states and towns they camped on their way. What the names of the people were that had been held captured by these bastards.

Sam didn't remember half of it. Hell, he didn't want to remember the whole thing.

„Sammy?" Dean stood in the doorway of their room, looking at him with sad big green eyes.

„I know … it's okay.", Sam said without looking at him. „I'll be fine." He then looked at the other male and tilted his head to the side, giving him a small – unhonest – smile that never reached his eyes.

Dean bit his lower lip, visibly hesitating. He watched the huddled up figure closely for a few more minutes. „I could stay, you know?"

„No. - I's okay. Bobby needs you. - I heard him curse about the lots of work at the garage." Sam looked back out of the window. „I'll be here when you come back."

Dean swallowed hard, fighting the tears that dared to come up. He felt so helpless, useless to Sam. Jody had asked him a lot of things … things Sam obviously was uncomfortable with. He had sensed the fear and pain that blazed up in Sam again, when he told Jody what they had done to them. What the female „ _trainer_ " had done to HIM. - And what they had been supposed to do if they got caught …

The younger Winchester didn't even want to imagine what Sam had been through. He just wanted to make it better – and he had done so incredibly good. Until the sheriff came by to continue her interrogation from weeks ago. And now everything was bad again. Sam was drawing back into his shell, was barely leaving their room and sat most of the time in the recliner – wich he had pulled up beside the window – and stared onto the yard.

„Bobby said I can stay with you. - He gives me the day off. That for I had to promise to take the best care of you and make you smile." Dean grinned. „Huh? - What'd you say? Getting out there into the snow? Taking a walk? Making out in front of the fireplace?" He cocked an eyebrow.

Sam continued to stare out of the window. He didn't want to push Dean away. But he also wanted to be alone.

Dean nodded to himself – slightly disappointed. He knew Sam didn't mean to be mean or mad. The human couldn't express himself different. He knew that. And though it stung a little bit that Sam didn't even wanted to have him around.

„Okay … I get it." He sighed. „You don't wanna be around others at the moment …" He eyed Sam for another couple of moments. „I'll be back for dinner, Sammy. - You're waiting up for me, aren't you?"

Sam chuckled softly. „Of course I'm waiting for _you_.", he answered. Then he looked towards his mate. „You aren't mad, are you?", he asked then.

Dean shook his head and flashed him his most charming smile, covering his disappointment perfectly. „Nah, me?"

Sam didn't bite.

„You know you're the only one. - It's not about you." Now he sought Dean's gaze, making sure that he had his attention, and gave him the best smile he could offer without letting it look made up.

„I know. - I just wish i could help you … somehow ..." Dean frowned now, so much sorrow in his eyes it was heart-breaking.

He walked towards Sam and kneeled down, laying his hands on Sam's knees and guided them down, until they were flanking him. The human scooted forward and let Dean wrap his arms around his middle. Sam didn't do as much as laying his arms around the wolfman's shoulders, one hand cupping the back of his head. He then drew the shorter man closer until their bodies were flush against each other's.

Dean closed his eyes as he rested his ear on Sam's chest, listening to the calm thumps of his heart. Sam's hand felt cold, as his fingers brushed over the younger Winchester's earlobe.

„I'm sorry.", Sam whispered, „I wish I wouldn't be like I'm now. I -"

„No.", Dean breathed, drawing him closer, holding him tighter, „It's okay. - You don't have to apologize. Not for that."

Then there was silence for a long while.

„You sure I shouldn't stay? - We could spend our day in bed. Together. Lunch and dinner and snacks … cuddling and all the stuff you like so bad." Dean grinned. „Huh?", he added.

Sam chuckled. „Nah. - I'm fine. Just go and have some car-sex.", he gave back.

The human knew that Dean needed the change. He didn't want the wolf to hang around with him, just because he felt bad – just because he was a mess. He didn't want to be a burden to Dean anymore. Didn't want to be a burden to the pack anymore.

„Sure you'll be okay on your own?", Dean asked again.

Sam leaned back. - He was still tired since he hadn't got a lot of sleep the last night. „I won't be on my own. You're gonna tell John and Ellen to check on me and to try to get me downstairs. You'll tell them to watch out that I'm gonna eat and drink enough."

Dean was stunned. Sam had seen through him – again – like so often lately.

* * *

Sam spent most of the morning on the recliner, lost in thoughts while he stared out of the window into nothingness. He knew he wouldn't be able to forget what had been done to him. The scars on his body and soul were too visible – omnipresent. But he would try to get over it – _for Dean_. He hated it to see his mate worried like that. He hated that he was the reason for Dean to feel unhappy.

John had brought him lunch. Not the usual stuff though. Peanutbutter-banana-sandwiches and milk and water.

Sam forced himself to eat all of it. Just so Dean wouldn't worry even more. He knew the wolf would claim to know exactly what he had consumed while his absence. Sam wanted to see him happy, see him smiling.

When he was done, he got his shit together and grabbed the tray with the empty glasses and the plate and got them downstairs into the kitchen.

Somehow relieved, that no one seemed to be around, he started to clean the dishes, and his own mess up, wich were towering at the side of the sink. When he was done, he dried them off and put them back into the cupboards.

He then eyed the contents of the fridge and looked at the clock above the small table in the kitchen. Usually John or Ellen would've started the dinner already. But they hadn't …

All he knew was that they were running out of food so they took off into town to stock up on groceries and meat from the butcher.

Sam sat down at the table and stared at the clock. - Their dinner wouldn't be ready until Dean and the others would come home … They were working the whole day and Sam had done nothing but sitting and staring out of the window.

He started to feel guilty and worthless all over again. He had to pull his shit together and start thinking. So he came to the conclusion that he'd cook dinner. After eying the contents in the fridge and the ones in the store-room, he decided to make some chilli con carne. That was the only thing he could find in Bobby's cooking-book that matched halfway with the things that were in the house.

Sam was half through with chopping the meat into tiny pieces, when the potatoes started to boil in their iron prison on the stove.

* * *

He stirred in the pot and glanced at the clock on the wall. It's been four hours now, and John and Ellen hadn't been back from their run for errands yet. It was the first time that he was completely alone in the house – _all by himself._

… and it was getting dark outside already.

Sam glanced at the clock again. Something didn't fit. He knew they wouldn't let him all on his own that long. Or they just didn't have told him that someone was holding watch outside …

Sam started to get nervous, glancing at the clock every now and then while he sat at the kitchen-table with a mug of sweet coffee before him. Worry added to his nervousness after some time.

What if the other pack had decided to take them out?

He swallowed hard and dared to take a look out of the window. There wasn't a lot to see anyway in the darkness and in between the big flakes of falling snow. Just the spare illuminated area in front of the porch.

Everything seemed like usual. - Just like at the cabin. Just before they went after him and knocked John out. A cold shiver run down his spine and up again.

Sam knew that Bobby was hiding a gun in the upper drawer of his desk in the living-room and a silver-knife between the books of the right shelf. He knew that the gun was filled with iron-rounds. And he also knew that Bobby kept it there because he thought that the absence of the other pack wouldn't last forever.

* * *

It was then, when he heard a low rumble and a high-pitched whimper, that Sam straightened in his chair.

He swallowed hard, as the air in the kitchen started to feel thick and barely breathable. The animalistic sounds had sounded not too far away from the house. The others at the garage (wich was on the other side of the yard) must've had heard it too. It hadn't sounded like the sounds Ash or Caleb made when they were „ _playing around_ ". It seemed more serious. DANGEROUS.

Sam glanced out of the window, recognizing a movement in the darkness. He closed his eyes for a brief moment and then they snapped open again.

Another growl was heard. Another whine. And Sam was up on his feet and in the living-room, taking the gun and the knife.

Something that sounded like metal grinding against metal crawled into his ears and a pained yelp was added short after. Sam jumped on the couch and lurked out of the window. This time he didn't have to strain his eyes to see what was going on.

There was a wolf swaying out of the shadows and collapsing near the porch. Sam swallowed again. He instantly knew that it was a member of HIS pack. He didn't knew how – he just knew.

And that was all it needed.

Moments later Sam found himself on the porch, staring at the motionless animal just a couple of feet away from him. He ripped his gaze from it and glanced into the darkness. The half-moon wasn't giving enough light to show everything. But it was enough to make out the Impala's silhouette and the stacked wrecks.

Without wasting time he ran from the porch, the weapon drawn and unlocked. Sam sank into the snow beside the wolf and laid his hand on the damp fur. He wasn't able to make out the color, but he sensed that it wasn't Dean and relieve flooded over him. Though, it was still one of their pack and Sam knew he wouldn't be able to get the animal inside on his own.

He pulled his hand back, as he felt the labored breathing of the creature and his head snapped up. There was a low snarl close by.

„Stay.", Sam whispered into the wolf's ear. „I'll lure him away from you. - I'll try to get to the garage ..." _… before it gets me._

The animal gave a silent whine.

Grey eyes blinked open and the wolf tried to move, but Sam put his hand back on its ribcage. „No.", he whispered, „It's okay. - I never meant that someone of you get hurt, Thomas." And with that he rose, staring into the darkness.

 _Now or never_ , Sam thought. He pulled out the knife, well knowing that a turned werewolf would never be able to ignore the scent of a human's blood. EVER. - At least he hoped that the things that had been written in the books were partly true.

With gentle force, he drove the blade through the tender skin on the inside of his lower arm. It didn't as much as sting and then it burned a little bit. He didn't went too deep but deep enough to make the blood drip from it. And then he ran – as fast as he was able to, aiming towards the garage.

As he heard narrowing paws hitting the snowy ground behind him, as he heard the snarls and growls coming closer, he started to kind of regret what he had brought himself into. Sam should've known that he wouldn't make it to the garage. He should've known that there was no way he'd be faster than the wolf.

_The thing would get him – and then it would tear him apart._

Sam stopped in his tracks abruptly, his head wiping around, to see where he actually was. His lungs were screaming for oxygen, his head felt feather-light for a couple of moments. And his damn freaking long legs hurt as hell.

That was when he realized that he actually didn't wear his boots … nor his slippers. - _Fantastic_.

He needed a new plan – _NOW_.

Sam backed up, until he felt the freezing metal of a stack of cars against his back and rose the weapon to his chest, adjusting his grip on it. For a moment he stared into the night-sky. And his eyes widened. He needed to get in one of the cars. The wolf would be too interested in human flesh that he wouldn't go back to Thomas anyway. So he just had to wait it out until someone of his own pack would show up.

Sam prayed – for the first time in a long time – that this mate-thing worked. That Dean would sense his mental calls. That he'd find him.

His plan had just one failure: He came up with it moments too late.

Sam's head snapped to his left. A giant creature was standing there. It's eyes sparkling in a golden-yellow and dark-red in the fading moonlight. He spun around to face the thing, his weapon pointing at it (though Sam wasn't sure if he would even hit it … last time he tried to pull the trigger it hadn't worked. John had said the gun had jammed, but Sam hadn't been entirely sure about the older male's words). He sincerely prayed that Bobby's gun wouldn't be jamming at all.

With that he made a step to the side, while the creature took a step closer.

Yeah, Sam hadn't thought about that good enough. Even if he threatened to shoot it, it wouldn't back off. Its need was too big. He was cursing himself all over again.

Dean would be so mad at him for not staying in the house. It had practically been an order. And he hadn't obeyed.

Dean would be _sooo_ mad at him.

The creature drew his tail-end up and lowered his front slightly, making itself ready to jump. Sam pulled the trigger, right when the wolf took off the ground. A second shot in midair and then another one as the animal landed on him, taking Sam down into the snow.

A slight burn flashed over the right side of his ribcage and flank, feeling one of its claws scratching through the thin layers of fabric and skin.

* * *

It felt like a stab right into his heart. - A sudden feeling claimed him that something wasn't right. - Something was so terribly wrong.

And then Dean heard it. A low rumble and a high-pitched whine somewhere from the yard. He rose his head from under the hood and shared looks with Bobby, Caleb and Ash, who had stilled and straightened up themselves.

Something tightened around Dean's heart. _He felt it._ Felt it as he was him. Adrenaline pumped through his veins and he let out a dangerous snarl before he started to turn into the dangerous creature he was. Dean started to rip his cloths and achingly tight skin off to turn into what others feared – _the wolf._

A split moment later the others followed his example and they were on their way across the yard, led by Dean. Regardless of the obstacles before them.

_A shot rang out._

The metal of the wrecked vehicles scrunched and dented and glass shattered under their weight as they made their way high above the ground. They never slowed down.

_A second shot._

Not even when they came into eyeshot.

_A third shot._

With a giant leap, Dean took off the stack of wrecks, landing just a yard away from _it_. It would've been too dangerous in the wolves eyes to try to take the creature down – right there – with the human beneath it.

Dean locked his gaze with the other wolf one's. It growled at him threatening, while it made its way backwards. Dean made his way forward, while it backed away from the human's curled up form in the snow, lowering his head in submission. - Not sensing that it'd never leave the Salvage alive.

Just when Dean stood protectively over his mate, the wolf got taken down by two others.

* * *

Dean sank to his knees – not feeling the coldness of the snow on his skin as he did so. He laid his hand on Sam's hair, listening to his erratic heartbeat, his fast breathing – sensing the panic of the human before him.

„ _Sam_.", he said calmly.

He blinked and lurked up, pulling his hands down. And in the very next moment the human was on his knees and all over Dean. Wrapping his long arms around the naked male, pressing himself into him desperately. He buried his face in the curve of Dean's neck, ignoring the slight pain that was running down on the side of his ribcage towards the waistband of his sweat-pants.

„Thomas.", Sam muttered. „You need to check on Thomas. - He's hurt." Sam looked up, searching the man's face.

Tears were glistening in Dean's eyes as he did so. He could tell his mate was at least worried … And was that _hurt_ in his eyes?

„Dean wrapped his arms around Sam and held him close. „Ash's with him. - He went streight to the house when we heard it.", he explained, his voice silent. „Let's get you inside."

Sam nodded, his gaze moving over to the two wolves that pinned the intruder into the snow. „Did I hit him?"

Dean cocked an eyebrow.

„The wolf. - Did I hit him?", Sam asked again.

Dean felt a damp warmth on the skin of his left lower arm. That was when he smelled it for the first time. Human blood. The younger Winchester's gaze darkened and he drew back from Sam, cupping the human's face in his hands.

„Are you hurt?", he asked, his voice shaking.

Sam looked down on himself, as if he'd be able to see something in the darkness. But he didn't. He gave Dean a confused look. Because there was nothing but the slight burning sensation on his right side and the pain on his arm where he had cut himself.

Sam shook his head, as he looked back at Dean's face.

Just when the realization struck him, that he had felt pain, when the wolf came for him, he touched his right flank and hissed.

„Sam?", Dean asked worriedly, following the human's hand with his gaze. His eyes widened. „Did he _bite_ you?"

Sam seemed to think for a moment, before he shook his head again. „Don't think so ..."

Dean frowned and rose to his feet, while Sam still kneeled before him. Without hesitation he picked the human up as if he weighted nothing, feeling more of the damp warmth against his own body. He prayed, that it wasn't a bite (as Sam had said). He prayed that the wolf's blood and the human's hadn't mixed.

Sam held onto the older male while they made their way back to the house. He closed his eyes, leaning his head onto Dean's shoulder. Sam was sure that he'd been able to walk by himself. But he didn't protest – not after he had screwed up. He had an order and had disobeyed.

DISOBEDIENCE demanded PUNISHMENT.

* * *

Dean lowered the human onto the couch – a gruff expression on his face, the muscles of his body tense. He then disappeared without a word upstairs and was back down in the livingroom within ten minutes. Fully clothed and with a first-aid-kit in his hands.

Sam still held Bobby's weapon in a death-grip. His hands shaking from what had just happened.

Dean didn't say a word while he emptied the contents of the kit on the coffee-table. The younger Winchester avoided Sam's look, while Sam watched Dean all the way – warily.

If Sam knew something, it was that a silent Winchester was a mad Winchester. A _very mad_ Winchester.

When Dean started to unbutton Sam's shirt, he lay completely still, keeping his breaths labored, eying his opponent closely. Sam weighted his possibilities. Thought of apologizing and pleading for forgiveness.

But Dean wouldn't meet his searching gaze at all. He seemed to focus on the task at hand, even when he seemed to boil deep inside. So Sam kept his mouth shut, holding the gun tight so that his knuckles turned white.

Just as Dean laid his hand gently on the gun, Sam let go of it and let it being taken away from him.

Dean still didn't meet his gaze. He eyed the crimson red slick fluid that let the shirt stick to the human's skin.

It was a thin gash that looked worse than it actually was. It reached from the upper part of Sam's ribcage, down to the waistband of his boxers. - At least it was not life-threatening at all. Except the other wolf's blood had come in contact with the wound. Then it'd change Sam forever.

It wasn't that Dean was _mad_ at Sam. - He was worried, frightened and scared about the possibilities that lay before them. In the best case nothing would happen and Sam would stay Sam. But in the worst case, Sam'd turn into a needy monster whose only reason to live would be his mate and human's meat.

And that was a thought Dean couldn't handle. He didn't want to imagine it at all. THAT was something he wouldn't be able to live with – _not like this._

Now that he thought about it … he _was_ mad at Sam. He hadn't followed a direct order. It hadn't been a request – not in the least.

Sam let Dean undress him, let him clean the wound, let him patch it up (it didn't have to be stitched) and let him be dressed in one of the warmest hoodies Dean was able to find.

The younger Winchester cleaned up the mess he had created and dumped the torn shirt and papers into the trashcan in the kitchen. Standing there – staring at the pot of cold chilli – tears stinging in his eyes.

John and Ellen had been supposed to be there. Sure they went for a supply run. But they had been supposed to be back hours ago too. Had to have an eye on his mate.

What made him think about Thomas, who lay badly wounded on the big table in the dining room.

Dean smelled Ellen and Ash, but _not_ his father. The one had he trusted the most.

They had messed up. HE had messed up. Sam had made clear that he wouldn't let anyone of them get hurt because of him. He just hadn't presumed that Sam would actually mean what he said …

Dean's thoughts jumped back at the wolf in the dining-room, pinching the bridge of his nose with a deep sigh.

Sam shifted on the couch uncomfortably, trying to make out what Dean was doing in the kitchen for so long. Maybe he was looking for Thomas? - He had seen that Ellen's car was back on the yard as they returned to the house. He had also seen the blood-trails in the snow in front of the porch, where Thomas had lain.

Sam swallowed thickly, staring at the doorway, waiting for Dean to come back to him. Waiting for Dean to say something – _anything_.

But Dean didn't. He didn't come back into the living-room. He didn't come to talk to him, telling him what a failure he was, that he had screwed up AGAIN. Dean didn't even came and look after him. He just didn't.

At least not until Sam drifted off to sleep.

… _... to be continued_


	6. Chapter 6

** Of Werewolves And Humans **

** Chapter 18 ~ Blaming You **

THEN:

_Sam swallowed thickly, staring at the doorway, waiting for Dean to come back to him. Waiting for Dean to say something – anything._

_But Dean didn't. He didn't come back into the living-room. He didn't come to talk to him, telling him what a failure he was, that he had screwed up AGAIN. Dean didn't even came and look after him. He just didn't._

_At least not until Sam drifted off to sleep._

* * *

NOW:

Sam slept through the whole night without waking once. He hadn't even stirred. Hadn't noticed, when Dean came back into the living-room, a sorrowful expression in his ever so green eyes. He hadn't noticed Dean picking him up and carrying him into their bedroom, where he laid him on the bed and covered him with the comforter and an extra blanket.

Sam hadn't noticed his mate laying down beside him, slipping under the covers and resting a hand on his chest. Feeling his heart and the even rise and fall of his ribcage while he slept.

* * *

Sam woke up to the sound of the bedroom-door gliding open with a muffled squeak. He was still half asleep when he felt the mattress beside him tip down. His flank hurt a little bit, but it wasn't that bad.

He have had worse.

Soon the human's eyes fluttered open and looked at the male form sitting on the bed. The corners of his lips started to curl up as the memories of the last night came back to him. That he had HELPED – truly helped – one of his mate's pack.

As he remembered that he had disobeyed, the smile fell before it could manifest on his face.

Dean looked at him, his face blank from emotions at first. Then a warmth settled over his features and his eyes turned soft.

„How are you feelin'?", Dean asked silently, feeling the human's forehead for any signs of fever.

There were none.

Sam cleared his throat and took a deep breath. „Fine. - How's Thomas?"

Dean's expression hardened slowly. „He's good. - Looked worse than it actually was.", Dean explained, his palm resting on Sam's cheek. „You shouldn't have left the house. - I _told_ you not to."

Sam's eyebrows furrowed and his look drifted aside. „I'm sorry, Dean.", he muttered. „I couldn't leave him out there like this … He was hurt … He was in no state to fight or ..."

Dean nodded pensively. „You didn't follow my orders.", he reminded him, his voice cooler now. „There's a reason why I don't want you outside on your own. Not as long as they're out there. - It's dangerous."

Sam sucked in his lower lip. - He knew he was in trouble. He heard it on the way Dean spoke, the way his words slowed down …

„Do you understand why?", Dean's voice grew sharp on its edges. He tore the comforter down harshly, staring at Sam's newest wound. „Because you could get hurt, _damn it_.", the last words were more of a hiss, his gaze glued to the bandage that covered Sam's left side.

Sam flinched away, drawing his arms close to his front, covering his bare chest as good as possible. That was when he recognized that he was only wearing his boxers and the flannels.

The younger Winchester got up from the bed, a guttural snarl ripping from his throat. „What did you even think you were doing? - You could've been killed. You're HUMAN – you're not like _us_."

Sam squeezed his eyes shut, pressing himself into the mattress. He didn't dare to answer … _Thomas could've been dead too,_ he thought to himself.

„You could be _dead_ , Sam. DEAD, do you understand?" Dean was close to yelling now, his fear, his frustration about what had happened, how close Sam had come to die, releasing now in one single blow. „When _I tell you_ to do something, you will, you _understand_ me?! You DON'T leave the house, hell, you don't even go pee without asking me **first** from now on!" The younger Winchester panted, his face screwed up in anger and something like despair and fear.

He just stood there, his back turned at the human, not moving. Just breathing, trying to get his temper back under control, while he regretted his spoken words as soon as they had come over his lips.

When he finally turned around, and his gaze fell back on the human on the bed, Sam was curled up in a tight ball, his long fingers wrapped around his head as if to shield it from being hurt. He was trembling, his toes crinkled inwards.

Sam knew it – he had screwed up big style. He knew that Dean would be mad at him, that he'd yell at him. He knew that there'd be some kind of punishment. He just have had hope that it wouldn't get that bad, that Dean wouldn't tick out. And now he was afraid that all his hopes would fall. That Dean would hit him … even when he couldn't quite believe in this thought. The chance that he would was there though.

Dean's face fell, all the anger falling away from him, vanishing from his eyes. He had done something he had sworn he wouldn't. But it had just overcome him like the tide. Unstoppable. Bad things spilling from his own mouth. Things he knew could possibly hurt the tender bond between the two of them, or even rip it …

„Sam … I … I'm sorry ...", he stuttered, moving slowly towards the bed, „I … didn't want to say these things. I was just … **damn it**." Dean sat down on the edge of the bed, his eyes filled with sorrow and regret. „I'm an idiot." He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, rubbing over it. „You wanted to protect a wounded pack-member. - _I know ._..", his voice was barely a whisper.

Sam remained unmoved.

„I shouldn't have yelled at you, Sam ..." The younger Winchester laid his hand on Sam's bicep, feeling tense muscles beneath his skin. „I'm sorry, Sammy …. _please_ …." His hand moved up over the human's neck and cupped Sam's hand, where it was pressed against his head. „ _Please_.", he begged. Dean Winchester begged – and he never ever had begged for something. „ _Please_. - I'm not mad at you …"

He stroke Sam's hand gently until it loosened its grip and took it in his, revealing half of the human's face. Wet with tears and a red-rimmed eye looked up at him.

There was so much fear in those hazel-green circles. - Not quite fear of being hurt physically … it felt more like being hurt mentally ...

Dean laid down beside his mate, on the very edge of the bed and inched as close as possible towards Sam, facing him.

„Come here.", Dean whispered and slipped with his lower arm under Sam, pulling him close. „I won't yell at you again." He blew out a deep sigh, placing a tender kiss on Sam's forehead.

The human trembled and sobbed silently into the pillow.

It took a long while until Sam started to relax and finally nestled into the wolfman's chest. Dean pulled the comforter back over the both of them and rubbed Sam's back ever so gently. He didn't talk anymore, he just held Sam close and stroke him softly. Dean wanted to show him, that he didn't mean what he had said.

Sam shouldn't be afraid of his mate. Not of him in any way.

* * *

Thomas was back on his feet by dinner. He still walked a little stiff as if he was sore, but other than that he seemed to be fine.

The wolf in the basement on the other hand wasn't that good at all. He wore his human form, bound by silver-shackles wich were connected to an iron-ring on the floor.

The male was panting and sweating violently. His eyes were red-rimmed and the skin around a gash on his left bicep was angry red. Dark-blue – nearly black – strands ran beneath his translucent looking skin, marking the way of his veins there.

The heat of the fever was radiating from the poor being, that had come with the silver-poisoning. He wouldn't have long anymore. - Not long enough.

* * *

Dean moaned softly, and shifted. He had fallen asleep while caressing Sam's bare back with his fingertips some time after his mate had passed out on him.

Sam listened to the odd sounds his mate gave from him. Low moans and needy groans … Something he hadn't heard yet – at least from Dean. For a moment he had truly thought that his mate was in pain. But then again … the expression on Dean's face looked different, so did his soft movements beneath the comforter.

Sam propped up on an elbow and inched back a bit, watching Dean for quite a while with a small frown on his forehead.

„ _Sammy_." It was more of a sound an animal would've made.

 _Dean felt the tender skin above him, Sam's lips against his own. It felt like_ holy fucking shit there's nothing better in the world like this _. He looked up at the man above him, green dark hazel-eyes staring down at him, while he moved his hips in small circles._

_Dean threw his head back into the pillow, his hands resting on Sam's toned calves, enveloped by the human's tight heat. This felt beyond amazing – being like this, feeling_ **him** _like this. - Oh god …_

_He ground against the weight covering him, trying to get more friction, getting deeper, hitting that one spot deep inside his mate that'd make him begging for more._

_Dean felt fingers brushing over his lips, his yaw, his neck. Lips sealed over his and when he opened his eyes again it were Sam's. Sam who bowed forward, so that Dean's manhood was close to slipping out of him, just held by the tight ring stretching around him, that was Sam's hole._

_The wolfman licked hungrily into Sam's wet mouth, his hands finding their way up on Sam's hips,_ _holding him in his position. Then he bucked his hips up, punching a surprised sound out of Sam. Dean drew back slowly and pushed his hips up again, burying himself inside Sam to the hilt while he held him in place, swallowing the most amazing sounds Sam made …_

Dean's eyes fluttered open to a warm feeling in his belly that spread out into the rest of his body, making him feel all tingly and eager. His skin felt over-sensitive and hot. Another low moan fell from his lips.

First he didn't realize where it came from … hell, he couldn't even make up a thought about how it was even possible to feel like … _the dream._

That was when he _realized_ what was happening right here. His eyes widened at the realization and he sat up half-way, his eyes darting into his lap where he found the source of arousal in an instant. Dean scrambled back, hitting his back on the headboard of the bed in the process, slipping out of Sam's warm mouth that had surrounded him.

The human stared at him with big innocent eyes as he sat back on his heels. His lips swollen and wet and his hair all messed up …

The very next moment Sam found himself on his back, Dean pinning him down into the mattress forcefully, grinding his strained erection against Sam's crotch. A deep growl tore from Dean's throat, as he crushed his lips down on Sam's, forcing him to open his mouth, letting him in.

Sam tried to turn his head to the side, but the wolf wouldn't let him. With one hand he held Sam's wrists down, while he cupped his yaw with the other one.

„ _Please_ ...", Sam whimpered, when his mate forced his legs apart violently. „ _Not like that … please ..._ "

All of a sudden Dean stopped, the grip on Sam's wrists eased. He panted heavily as he let his forehead sink into the curve of Sam's neck.

„ _Not like this._ ", Dean whispered breathless into his mate's ear, letting go of the human's wrists and pushed himself off of him, sitting up on the edge of the bed. „ _Not like this._ ", he muttered to himself, cradling his head in his hands.

Dean squeezed his eyes shut, trying to push the beast in him back into its cage. Trying to regain control before someone would get hurt. - Before Sam would get hurt.

Then there was silence and the air heavy with emotions.

„I thought you'd like that." Sam's voice was so small, so innocent. „I didn't want to … I just tried and … I'm sorry, Dean." Unshed tears glistening in Sam's eyes, as he watched his mate warily. „I wanted to make it feel real to you … _I've nothing else I can give_ … only … only _me_ ..."

Dean swallowed thickly. He grabbed the blanket from the bed-end and covered his private parts with it. Oh god … he have had no idea that he could feel that filthy – EVER. Not in a lifetime.

He felt the fabric of his jeans around his ankles and grabbed for them, pulling them back up. Then he took himself back in (what was somehow not that easy with a strained erection like this) and closed his zipper and button.

„Sam.", Dean sighed and rubbed over his face. „Don't do this ever again, okay?"

Sam just nodded, his gaze glued to the mattress.

Now Dean looked up at him anxiously. „I could've hurt you … I – It's not ..." He blew out a long breath, sucking another one in, trying to clear his mind from the fine tendrils of his dream. „You've a lot to give, Sammy.", he said then. „Don't reduce yourself like that. - I _don't_ want it like that. - IF we do it then I want you to want it too …"

Sam nodded again but didn't look up. He had screwed up _again_. Twice in not even twenty-four hours.

„Fine." Dean managed a small smile and cleared his throat – kind of embarrassed. „I'd think we … should eat some of the chilli you've made yesterday, don't you think?"

Sam nodded – _again_.

Dean decided to forget about the event for now – he didn't know what else to say anyway, so he kept his mouth shut. He didn't want to make things worse than they already were. Because obviously they had to be worse as he had thought, when Sam still believed that he had to „ _pay_ " for his/their hospitality. Or maybe because he thought that he had to since he was a wolf's mate.

Dean damned Robert Singer's collection of lore …

Either way … Dean wouldn't accept that. He needed Sam to SEE what he really was. What they all were. That they all had the same rights, that Sam wasn't the trash he thought he was. Sam needed to SEE that he was so much more.

And then – on the other side – he sensed that it wasn't completely about that. That there was more behind Sam's actions sometimes than he led on. There was still this part inside the human that thought he was less worth than the dirt under Dean's boots.

Dean was about to get off of the bed, when Sam's head snapped up. „Did I do it wrong?", he asked hesitantly, not sure if he wanted an answer.

The younger Winchester rose an eyebrow on the human. He looked into pleading big circles of hazel and green, then he smiled.

„Nothing's wrong. - It's just not … I don't want you to think that you have to do _something_ , you actually don't want to.", he answered then, trying to hide his own frustration about how things went down the past twenty-four hours. „Now come on. - Your chilli's waiting for us."

With that Sam grabbed the hoody from the bed-end and pulled it over, hurrying to Dean's side, who wrapped his arm around Sam's lower back and placed a lingering kiss over his temple. He sensed Sam's distress. He also had sensed that Sam had liked it somehow. But then again … they weren't that far yet. He didn't want to push his luck, since the human was responding to him pretty good for being – well – a human.

And that little incident … well, they'd forget about it as if it had never happened. - At least Dean intended to.

Dean KNEW that Sam wasn't as far on his way to recovery as he had thought. The event of not even an hour ago had proofed him right. Sure Sam seemed to sense moods of him every now and then, and he sure as hell was bound somehow to the werewolf. But there was also the human's past, that still lingered above them, ready to get them down.

That was something that he couldn't change, something he had to be careful about. It didn't matter that they were mates, when it came to this. Sam was still hurt and broken on the inside, even if his body had healed up nicely.

Maybe Sam knew that the wolfman wouldn't hurt him, didn't want to say the things he had said – but deep down there was this fear. Fear of being hurt again, being abused again, no matter how much he trusted Dean. No matter what he felt for him. These things didn't go away just that easy, and Dean knew it.

_Not like this …_

* * *

They had dinner then. All together in the dining-room. Everyone was on his place at the table, eating the chilli Sam had made last night.

And it was silent. _So silent._

Sam glanced at Thomas from time to time, who still seemed a little bit too pale. He also stole glances at the others. All of them seemed pensive and bothered. _So was he._

Even Ash was somehow not as carefree as he was usually. No wonder after the events of last night. Adding that there was still the fact, that he had been all on his own in the house. What he could tell, pissed Dean off the most. Not just because of the glares he shot his father and Ellen … also because he just KNEW it. It was practically radiating from the younger Winchester. And Sam wondered if the others were able to feel that too.

Despite the bad mood among the pack, everyone took another serving of the chilli – even Thomas. They emptied the big pot and from Bobby's homemade bread wasn't a crumb left at the end.

Sam had also thought, that Thomas had given him a wink – or it had just been an imagination, now that the painkillers that Dean had given to him started to do their magic work on his mind.

„He was spying on us.", Thomas finally spoke up and looked into the round. „He was watching the Salvage. I smelled him right away and went after him, chased him through the yard. - That bastard lured me into a trap … and that was it. He had me."

Everyone's eyes were on him now.

„I don't think that he wanted to use me as bait or something. - I think no one of us was supposed to find him snifflin' around ...", he went on talking, „If it wouldn't have been for Sam ... I'd be probably dead by now." He looked over at the human with obviously mixed feelings.

The others and Sam recognized that he didn't call him „ _the human_ " as he talked. He used his name and looked at him with something different from disgust … it had more of acceptance and tolerance, maybe he even started to like the human a little bit.

„We know that they're watching us. Depends now on if he was the only one … or if there were more ...", Bobby stated pensively, wiping with a hand over his beard. „What means that this isn't over yet. - They're checking us out, looking for a weak-spot."

Dean leaned back in his chair, blowing out a breath. „That's fantastic … they know when who's where. They know about our routine and when Sam's outside with Ash and Caleb." His eyes darted at John, who kept still. „IF he was the only one of them spying on us ..."

„I didn't smell any other foreign scent out there.", Thomas added, eying Sam for a brief moment with an unreadable expression on his face.

Dean didn't have to ask where his father had been during his mate had thought he had to save one of them. Sheriff Mill's scent was all over his father – even now it was faintly surrounding him.

Ellen had been called to an emergency a town over … werewolf-vet-stuff … a birth. Dean couldn't blame HER for being not there … but his father? He damn well could blame HIM.

Sam watched Dean closely now. The younger Winchester's temper was on the edge the whole evening ever since they had crossed John's path earlier today. He laid a hand on his mate's upper thigh and squeezed gently. Their looks met and Dean knew exactly what Sam wanted to tell him. To _leave it be_. That _nothing bad had happened_. And Dean gave back a _but-you-got-hurt-look_ (however this was even possible. Sam just KNEW what Dean was thinking. He just **knew** it).

The others watched their wordless conversation intensively …

Sam sighed, tilting his head to the side, saying as much as _i-know-but-it's-not-their-fault_. _… it's mine. Mine alone …_

Dean cleared his throat, his gaze lingering on Sam's fascinating eyes a little bit longer. Then he looked into the round, clearing his throat again.

„I think it's no longer about Sam alone.", Thomas added then, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. „You guys were right … I think they're looking for the ones that killed their pack-members."

„I guess our involuntary guest will answer some of our questions. - Might gives us some more answers about their intentions.", Caleb spoke up, leaning back in the chair too now. „If he's going to last that long anyway ..."

Sam's head snapped up. „He's alive?" He swallowed.

„Yeah well … guess we've to work on your accuracy." Dean chuckled, laying his hand over Sam's on his thigh. „You grazed him – he's poisoned …"

Sam swallowed harder, a lump in his throat building up. That meant the werewolf would be dying slow and painful – because of him. „Wait … he's … is he in pain?"

The others frowned in union.

„What?", John asked, believing that he hadn't heard right.

„If he's poisoned, he'll be in pain … he'll die … there's no cure, not after such a long time ...", Sam looked at his empty bowl, trying to hold down the chilli that wanted to crawl its way back up his throat.

He looked up. „Why didn't you just kill him? He's gonna suffer … and …"

„Becuase we need answers, youngster. - He won't talk to us yet, so we'll wait.", John explained calmly, „... until he's ready. And if he's a good boy we'll release him from his pitiful life soon enough."

„But ..." Sam started „... can't we get the answers somehow else? Does he have to go through this?" His lower lip quivered – so _not_ puppy-like at all.

„He wanted to kill you, Sam." Dean kept his voice soft, but couldn't hide the disbelieve that swung with it. „And if he'd have the chance he'd kill us all. Without hesitation."

Sam shook his head. _No_. „You're right … I'm just …" He sighed. „I don't know ..."

Dean's eyes softened, understanding what Sam meant. He had suffered indescribable. And they – _his pack_ – was doing the same now to someone else. At once he felt disgusted by himself, felt guilty for the things he haven't had done yet.

The younger Winchester also felt Sam's mood taking a way he didn't want it to go. So he rose from the chair with an audible inhale, still holding Sam's hand.

„It's been a long day, guys … and girls.", he looked into the round and stopped at Ellen with a fake-smirk. „What'd you say, Sammy? - Sleep?"

Sam nodded and stood up too, holding onto the wolfman's hand tightly. They said their good-nights and the two of them went upstairs. Sam was the first one to disappear under the covers, shortly followed by Dean. - Of course after they had brushed their teeth and checked on Sam's bandage.

The human turned towards him and wrapped an arm around Dean's middle, placing a gentle kiss on Dean's lips. Dean kissed him back, letting his cushions rest on Sam's for a while, before he cupped the other male's head, licking tentatively over his lip's seam.

And Sam opened to him, letting him in. He leaned into the kiss and closed his eyes. He pressed his body against Dean's, holding him closer.

It was an unconcious thing that always happened when they kissed – ever since they kissed. It was like their bodies were attracting each other. Like their was an invisible bond pulling at each other to be closer.

Like their hosts were as bound as their souls were.

Sam felt like coming home and felt safe like nowhere else in the entire world.

… _... to be continued_

* * *

** Of Werewolves And Humans **

** Chapter 19 ~ Yours And Mine **

THEN:

_It was an unconcious thing that always happened when they kissed – ever since they kissed. It was like their bodies were attracting each other. Like their was an invisible bond pulling at each other to be closer._

_Like their hosts were as bound as their souls were._

_Sam felt like coming home and felt safe like nowhere else in the entire world._

* * *

NOW:

_Nightmares._

Terrible little creepers that ruined someone's sleep.

Even able to ruin someone's life if they carried on. Able to break people's minds. Able to hold off the desperately needed sleep.

Sam bolted up right into a sitting position, a thin sheen of sweat covered his body and his heart was racing. His lungs were fighting to get much-needed oxygen back into his bloodstream.

A gentle touch on his shoulder and Sam sank back. He was _safe_. He was with _Dean_ and his pack. He was where he belonged to. No more torture. No more pain. No more darkness.

And his breathing calmed, so did his heart.

Strong arms wrapped around him from behind, an open hand resting on his solar plexus. A gentle voice whispering into his ear.

His mind wasn't able to tell what was said, but he knew it was _Dean_. Dean who soothed him, telling him promises of love and safety. Dean who cared for and about him as long as he was around.

Sam closed his eyes again, letting the warmth of the wolfman's body soak into him, wash through him. His mate's gently whispering voice saturated his mind and soul.

He placed his hand over Deans, feeling the other male's warm breaths on his neck while he was promising him the world. While he was praising him.

… _once again._

* * *

Both men were tired when they woke up the next morning. Both of them had loved to stay in bed for like … _forever_.

Wouldn't there have been the agonizing screams from the basement. Piercing yells, high-pitched cries. Their prisoner was suffering terribly.

Sam covered his ears with his palms and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to pretend that there was nothing to be heard. But he couldn't. _He just couldn't._ It felt like he was listening to himself. The pleas, the begging, the suffocating pain. _He couldn't._

„Make it stop.", Sam whimpered. „Please make it stop, Dean. - _Make it stop_."

He felt the other male's gentle hands on his head, his neck.

Dean glanced at the door and then at Sam again. The human hadn't have to tell him. He knew if the others wouldn't, he would do it. He couldn't stand Sam begging – not for making something like THAT stop. Not when he was able to FEEL Sam's pain as if it was his own.

So the younger Winchester placed a gentle kiss on Sam's forehead, cradling him in his arms.

„I'll be back in a moment, Sam.", Dean whispered and placed another kiss on his forehead. „Just stay put, okay? Don't come downstairs. I'll take care of it."

And with that Dean was out of bed and on his way out of the room. He didn't go into the living-room or kitchen. _No_. He went streight into the basement.

The heavy iron-door was closed. Thomas stood before it, pushing away from the wall as he saw Dean coming down the stairs.

„Do we know what we need to?", Dean asked coldly.

Thomas nodded.

„Why's he still here then?", the younger one asked firmly.

Thomas rose his index finger and nodded towards the wooden stairway. Dean followed him, eyeing him questioning. „He's about to tell us where his pack is. - We can't finish him now. We need to know."

Dean closed his eyes for a moment, then swallowed. „Even if he's a dick … all though he tried to kill one of us, Thomas. - That's torture and you know it." Internally he was surprised that these words actually formed in his mind and came over his lips.

The wolf had tried to off one of his pack. Had tried to kill his mate … The anger and rage he felt wasn't that dominant as he thought it would be. There was also empathy for the hurting creature behind the door. Empathy wich he didn't know if it came from himself or his mate …

Thomas frowned. „That's definitely not Dean Winchester talking ..." he huffed and shook his head. „That's Sam talking ...", Dean finished the other male's thought with a deep sigh.

Both nodded, sharing a knowing look.

„You know that we need to know ...", Thomas spoke after a while. „It's too dangerous." His gaze moved from Dean Winchester to something behind him.

„We could let him go. - He could at least die surrounded by his pack. Where he belongs to.", a voice behind Dean spoke up hesitantly. An all too familiar voice – _Sam's_. „If he's getting there in time … And if not … He at least had a chance to."

Dean looked over his shoulder. „Didn't I tell you to wait _upstairs_?"

Sam sucked his lower lip in and looked to the ground. „Sorry ...", he muttered to himself.

Thomas look wandered from Sam to Dean and from Dean to Sam and back at Dean again.

Then Dean finally spoke: „I'll talk to John and Bobby about that … we could follow him wherever he's going. So we'd know where his pack is anyway."

Dean stole a glance at Thomas and gave him a nod before he turned to Sam. „Why don't you GO UPSTAIRS and make us some coffee? - I'll be there in a minute."

Sam nodded and disappeared without a further word.

Dean ran his fingers through his short spiked hair and glanced at the iron-door, while he waited for the creak of the loosen floorboard in the hallway to be heard, where Sam'd be out of hear-range.

„We can't let him go, Dean, you know that.", Thomas hissed silently, as the sound had been heard, „He's gonna tell them. - Who knows for how long he was out there and what his pack already knows. He's a threat. We can't let him go."

Dean held the other wolf's gaze. „I know that. - That's why we won't let him go.", his voice was cool, the lines of his face hard. „He's not leaving the woods alive.", and with that he passed Thomas and unlocked the iron-door. After another short glance back at his pack-member, he entered Bobby's so-called „panic-room".

* * *

Sam had made coffee. After he noticed that the others haven't had breakfast yet, he started to prepare one. Not the usual kind of thing … no eggs, no bacon … no sausages and gravy.

He made sandwiches with loads of ham and a little bit of cheese. He listened all the while strained for any sounds from the basement. - But it was so silent. So still.

He swallowed hard and closed his eyes, trying not to think about the suffering being down there. Sam told himself to man up, to take it like the others did, to see it at least a bit like the pack did.

* * *

Half an hour later they came upstairs. Ellen, Caleb, Ash, John, Bobby and Thomas. No Dean.

Sam looked at them – his look filled with hope and questions.

„Dean's up in a few minutes ...", John said, slumping down int he chair at the small table, reaching for one of the sandwiches there.

Sam nodded and placed nine mugs on the table, including the pot of coffee, milk and sugar. He watched the others eat and drink and waited, glancing into the hallway from time to time.

What seemed like an eternity later, Dean finally came upstairs and entered the kitchen. He wore a soft smile on his lips as he strolled towards Sam. He then wrapped his arms around the small of his back and placed a soft kiss on his lips.

„I'd say we eat something and then we're heading out.", Dean said calmly, „Practicing your aim and shooting-skills."

Sam smiled back at him and gave him a nod, still curious what Dean had taken that long in the basement. Of course he knew that it was any good. He knew that the silence meant, that he _had taken care_ of the creature. Sam just hoped that he had doped it up with sedatives and painkillers to make its death easier.

Since the others looked sincere and like usual (at least as usual as possible), he didn't waste his thoughts on that any further.

Dean had his troubles with keeping his good mood up. He knew he had done the right thing. And though he felt guilty, as if he had betrayed Sam.

There was no way they could let the wolf go … even when he was doomed to die.

* * *

Sam half laid, half sat on the couch in the living-room, his feet resting in Dean's lap. The younger Winchester was massaging the marigold-salve into the tender skin of his soles. Soon the human's eyes fluttered shut and a comfortable moan fell from his lips unconsciously, as Dean rubbed with his thumbs over the ball of his feet.

A satisfied smile settled over the wolfman's face, as Sam relaxed more and more into his touch. Actually he didn't want to get Sam out of the house later. He wanted to stay with him after the latest events and just chill out. But he had to if he wanted to avoid him seeing it when they'd take their captive into Bobby's truck to get him into the woods.

John stood in the doorway, watching his only son and Dean's mate for a long while, before he cleared his throat. Dean looked up and met his father's gaze, giving him a short nod.

It was about time.

„What'd you say, Sweetheart – I'll teach you how to shoot properly, huh? A little bit of target-practice ...", he asked biting his tongue. He didn't want to call him that … oh well, he wanted to, but he always had caught himself before it actually came over his lips.

Sam frowned and blinked his eyes open, his cheeks blushed. Had he heard right? Had Dean just called him _sweetheart_? SWEETHEART?

The human grinned from ear to ear as he looked up and gave his mate a short nod.

Dean chuckled and slid out under Sam's feet. „Fine. - let's get dressed and behind the house. - We've a makeshift rifle range there ..."

* * *

So they got dressed. Dean helped Sam to get into the thick parka, since his abused flank hurt as hell when he tried it on his own. The younger Winchester also helped him into his boots after Sam had tried to bow down, but sat up again, as the movement strained his wound. Dean grabbed Bobby's handgun, Sam had used the other night and inserted a clip with usual rounds instead of silver ones.

They left Bobby's house through the back-door.

When the others were sure, that Dean and Sam were gone, they got their captive upstairs and out of the front door. The wolf in his human form looked way less dangerous – and vulnerable. Besides his pale skin and the dark veins that signed off of his translucent skin he seemed weak. Fever had its hold on him since hours and the painkillers Dean had injected him didn't seem to do their work properly.

He was gagged and bound on his wrists, when they shoved him onto the bed of Bobby's truck, surrounded by Thomas, John and Ash.

Caleb sat on the passenger's seat beside Bobby who was driving and Ellen stayed at the house – just in case.

The two wolves shared a short look, before the older one inserted the key into the ignition and turned it around.

* * *

Dean handed Sam the weapon and took his place behind him. He then pointed with his finger at the bull's-eye of the target about hundred yards away from them.

„That's your target.", Dean said.

Sam looked back over his shoulder and nodded. His hands were trembling as he aimed at the round target. Dean brought his body closer to Sam's until they were touching and laid one hand on Sam's lower arm, correcting his position.

The human leaned into him, trying to feel the comfort of closeness through his thick clothing.

„Safety off.", Dean breathed into his ear. Trying not to give into the urge to bury his face into Sam's neck and kiss and nuzzle his way up until their lips met.

Sam removed the safety. Though somehow he was kind of distracted by the man behind him …

„Okay, now aim. Try to hit one of the inner circles.", the wolfman said then. „It probably won't work at the first time … so don't you worry, we've got time."

Sam nodded and squeezed an eye shut, concentrating on the task before him.

Dean chuckled. „No – both eyes open and on the target, Sam."

Sam obeyed and shifted the gun in his hands, his index finger wrapping around the trigger. „I won't hit it. - my hands are shaking too much."

„Doesn't matter. - It's getting better the more you practice.", Dean reassured him, taking a deep breath of Sam's lingering scent and held it. „Breath in, aim and shoot."

Dean blew out his breath and took another one, even deeper, as if he wanted to suck all of Sam's scent into his lungs. It felt like a drug, making him dizzy and lightweighted – though not the bad kind of feeling stoned. The good one, where this warmth spread through his body and gathered in his belly … making its way further down …

„Like this ..." He blew it out again and took another one.

Sam followed his example this time.

„There's nothing but you and your target.", Dean whispered gently. „You have to feel your target, get one with it ..."

Sam frowned. „It's wooden …"

„Humans ...", he gave back with an eye-roll. „Then just try to hit it somehow.", he said then. „Don't think too much about it."

Sam gave him another nod, trying to snatch a glance at Dean from the corner of his eye. - But no such luck.

Sam's lips quivered. He sucked his lower lip in and bit down on it, trying to concentrate on the target and try to get one with it.

He pulled the trigger … and … the bullet missed its target and found another one some feet behind, in the blanks of the fence that surrounded the back-yard.

Sam blew out the breath he was holding, so did Dean.

He lowered the gun and closed his eyes for a moment. „Do we have to do this?"

„You need to be able to defend yourself.", Dean gave back. „So … once again." Dean smiled. „You'll see it's getting better as soon as you get used to the weight of the weapon in your hands and the blowback.", he continued to explain patiently. „So ..." Dean laid his hands on Sam's lower arms, correcting his position again and then let go of him. „Once more, Sam."

They changed the clip after that one was empty and started all over again. At the end of the practice, Sam had managed to place five of the nine rounds into the inner three circles of his target. Dean then took the weapon from Sam and tugged it in between waistband and lower back of his jeans.

He turned around to face Sam and wrapped his arms around the middle of the human, smiling up at him. „You did good. - Real good.", he said praising. „Not bad for your first go."

Sam blushed and smiled shyly. „Yeah?", he asked embarrassed.

„Hell yeah.", Dean breathed, catching Sam's gaze.

Sam wouldn't look away. He tilted his head down slightly instead.

The wolfman titled his head back, closing the distance between them and took Sam's lips in his, ever so gently. Sam melted into the kiss, parting his lips a little bit.

„Your price ...", Dean whispered in between the kiss, „... is whatever you want … I'll do it. - The better you become … the more you get … whatever you want I'll do it for you, Sam. Whatever it is, I'll get it for you."

Sam's skin became more sensitive the more intense their kiss turned. Goosebumps rose all over his body despite the warmth of his clothing. His body trembled even when he wasn't cold. It was more about the warmth that covered his lips and crept through him, spreading into his limps and the tips of his fingers and toes.

„I want you ..." Sam wasn't even aware that he said that.

Dean's hands found their way under the parka and the thick fabric of his hoody, feeling the tender skin over his hips. Sam moaned into the kiss. Not in a dirty way, not sounding sexual at all. He sounded as he was comfortable and pleased and if he was making the small sound just for the other male.

Despite that, it made Dean's arousal squirm in his tight prison nonetheless. He tightened his hold on Sam and pressed himself firmer against his mate, feeling the warmth of his skin in the crispy air, feeling him like this …

It was more as the inner wolf inside him ever bargained for …

When they finally parted, both were breathing heavily, both smiled, both knew about the feelings of the other one.

They didn't need to say anything …

_… to be continued_

* * *

**2**

** Of Werewolves And Humans **

** Chapter 20 ~ There's A Mate? **

THEN:

_Despite that, it made Dean's arousal squirm in his tight prison nonetheless. He tightened his hold on Sam and pressed himself firmer against his mate, feeling the warmth of his skin in the crispy air, feeling him like this …_

_It was more as the inner wolf inside him ever bargained for …_

_When they finally parted, both were breathing heavily, both smiled, both knew about the feelings of the other one._

_They didn't need to say anything …_

* * *

NOW:

Sam and Dean were making spaghetti with tomato-meat-sauce. Besides the loads of meat that were contained in the sauce, there were also fine chopped root vegetables (what was so on Sam, because Dean would've gladly gone without).

Sam was stirring in the pot, staring at its contents, lost in thoughts.

Dean put the noodles into the boiling water and stilled when Sam was speaking up. „The basement's empty ...", he said silently.

A cold shiver ran down the wolfman's spine and he cleared his throat. „Yeah ..." He didn't disagree – he couldn't.

„The others aren't here except for Ellen ...", Sam continued silently.

„They're bringing him into the woods ...", Dean answered. _… to die._

Sam bit his lower lip. Somehow he knew they wouldn't let the wolf go … they haven't _let_ him. Because if they had, they hadn't brought him into the woods _while_ they were doing their practicing in the backyard.

Sam didn't look up, just stared ahead.

„Look Sam ...", Dean started.

„I know.", Sam stopped him, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. „I just wished … I don't know … that this could end somehow. - Before more people are dying ..."

Dean nodded to himself. He understood – he really did. But there was also the dread that was coming from the other wolf as long as he was alive.

They finished the meal without talking. Then they settled down in the living-room, each one with a mug of coffee, staring into the blazing fire. Ellen joined them short after she had set the table in the dining-room.

The three of them were silent, somehow the atmosphere was thick and strained, like they had all reasons to be sad and tortured with grief. Maybe it was because of Sam. Because they knew he didn't like the way this went down.

They knew now that the wolf hadn't been in contact with his pack ever since he had watched the Salvage. His pack didn't know that the murderers of their pack-members were at the there. Nor that the human was with them. They didn't know about their routines. He had also told them that the female wolf – Sharon – had been their alpha's mate. That he wouldn't let them off the hook until the killer of his precious wife was dead.

So somehow Dean felt guilty. He didn't want to do anything more than go to the farm – where they were staying for their time being – and hand himself over. _\- Just like that._ To protect his own pack, to protect Sam.

But the others had talked him out of it. Told him that there would be no use. That he'd hurt Sam and that they didn't know what his death would cause to the human. Because nothing else had been able to change his mind about going on suicidal-mission.

It was clear as day, that Sam felt their bond. That there was much more about this as anyone of them could possibly tell. So if he wanted to protect Sam, he had to stay, wasn't allowed to let himself being killed.

It'd cause Sam's death maybe. Even if the human might not knew why he felt the way he did for Dean, it could destroy him. Just like the death of a werewolf's mate could do to his other half. And that wasn't what Dean wanted.

Soon there'd come others. They knew their alpha wouldn't give up until he found the murderer of his mate.

What caused Dean's thoughts to jump on a mary-go-round of emotions, memories and what-ifs.

Their pack needed damn long to get back from their little trip into the woods, that was what they all thought, but no one said it out loud. So they kept waiting, throwing one log after another into the fire to keep the first floor warm enough for Sam.

* * *

The roar of Bobby's truck announced the pack's coming home. Ellen was on her feet the very next moment the front-door opened and Dean and Sam looked up from the couch where they were sitting.

The men were hissing and rambling on their way into the hall. They seemed to be upset – most of all _John_ seemed to be upset.

„How the hell, Thomas.", he yelled. „You were supposed to keep the bastard under control."

„Well, blame the one who was too stupid to check on the shackles!", Thomas yelled back.

„Hey!", Ash cried out. „The shackles were closed when I got him from the bed. - He wouldn't have been able to get them off by himself!"

Bobby let out an irritated rumble to silence the men.

And they did.

„This way or another. - He won't make it back to the farm alive. He's probably dead by now.", Bobby said calmly, rubbing a hand over his white-brown beard.

Thomas glanced into the living-room, catching a pissed expression of Dean and a kind of irritated one of Sam.

„They'll look for him anyway.", Caleb threw in.

„We're in some deep shit here.", John muttered, „it's just a matter of time until they find out what happened."

* * *

_somewhere in the woods …._

…. the pack's captive crawled his way over the open field. Fingers buried in the deep snow, pulling an aching body behind. Just half a mile or less to go … so close and though so far away. He wouldn't make it. He knew he wouldn't make it, he'd be dead before he'd reach the farm.

That was when it dawned to him: he didn't need to get there … as long as his pack would come for him. Then he could tell them what they needed to know. The only thing Deryl needed to know: The killers name and that the human (who was actually the murderer's mate) stayed at Singer's Salvage.

Exhaustion took over the broken body and the wolf sank down into the snow. The male's eyes changed slightly, gleaming in a firy red, and then a pained whine ripped from the depths of his throat, signaling his location to every wolf in an one-mile-radius.

* * *

They had finished their lunch, when John joined Sam at the sink, who was busy with rinsing the dishes. John grabbed one of the rags and started to dry the glasses off.

„Thought you could use a little help here ...", he said calmly with a weary smile on his lips.

Sam gave him a grateful smile. „Thank you, sir.", he said silently, drawing his focus back on the plate in his hands.

John sat the glass aside and took the plate Sam had just rinsed. „You should stop with that ..."

Sam's expression darkened instantly.

„... with calling us _sirs_ ...", John took another one of the plates and started to dry it off. „ … and calling Ellen a _ma'am_. - You're part of us, you know?" He gave Sam a hopeful look before he sat the plate aside and took another one. „We've names, Sam. - We're all the same here … No one's worth more or less because of his offspring."

„Thank you ...", Sam mumbled, sucking in his lower lip as always when he was unsure about something.

„I know it's a hard habit to overcome, when ..." John didn't continue, he just glanced at Sam with a pitying expression on his face. „Thing is … we're uncomfortable if you call us _sir_ or _ma'am_. And you make yourself feel less worth than you actually should.", he went on, taking the next plate – this time out of Sam's hand, as he was about to put it beside the sink to the others. „I'm really glad that you're with us." S bright smile built up on John Winchester's face. „Despite of all that happens right now … I've never seen Dean as happy as he's with you, Sam. - I think the both of you are a great fit."

Sam frowned at that. „He didn't have as much of a choice, did he?", he asked serious. „I read about the whole mate-thing … and werewolves in general. - Dean's a good man. A good friend. And a way better mate as he thinks. He haven't beaten me. Haven't yelled at me. – except when I deserved it (referring to disobeying orders of course … that was probably Sam's main-problem ever since)."

John frowned and his face began to fall.

Sam sighed and gazed at John with a hopeful expression on his face. „And I like him very much. - I think it's even a little bit more than just liking him … it felt a little bit weird at first … but then …"

John's hard lined face softened again and he listened.

„I read about it, you know? Dean tried to explain it to me – somehow ..." Sam swallowed and paused for another moment. Then he looked up, catching John's gaze. „I'm afraid that I will do something wrong …"

John gave him a reassuring look. „I don't think that you can do something wrong, son." He then chuckled amused.

… _trust me I can. I always did._ „And what if I DO? Dean doesn't deserve this." Sam looked down on himself. „I'm a mess. - I'm human. He deserves more. Why can't anyone else be his mate? A girl or so … maybe there's a spell or something ..."

„Whait." John rose a hand to stop sam's bubbling. „Why do you think someone else should be his mate? - It's your soul that calls to him. And his soul that calls to you. And don't tell me that it's not that way. - Because whatever you say, I'm pretty sure you know exactly why you both belong to each other."

Sam's lips quivered.

„Sam. - You said that you feel it. That it feels weird. And that's okay. Because you're a human being. You don't know what it's like to trust someone out of the blue like mates usually do. - That's why you are afraid. That's what you're scared of." John paused and pinched the bridge of his nose. „It's amazing that you're even able to sense as much as you are doing already."

Sam continued with his work.

„And next time the guys leave you hangin' with a bunch full of greasy dishes, just holler. - I'll make them help you ..." John gave him a cocky grin.

The human chuckled and smiled back at John. „Thank you, John.", he whispered.

* * *

The rest of the day was somehow … tense … between _all_ of them. Barely someone talked.

Bobby and Ellen had disappeared upstairs together, while the rest hung around somewhere else in the house.

Sam had his nose buried in another book about werewolves he had found earlier. Dean sat beside him, Sam's bare feet in his lap, the remote control in his hand.

And Thomas sat in the recliner staring at Sam who seemed completely unbothered by it. - Except the younger Winchester. He was glancing at the other wolf from time to time warily, trying to figure out what he was thinking.

Then – _finally_ – it was enough. _Dean_ had enough.

„What is it?", Dean hissed completely nerve-wrecked and straightened up in his position, glaring dangerously at the other male.

Dean's outburst came so suddenly, that Sam jumped and had his legs pulled up in an instant, the book falling out of his hands and to the floor audibly.

Thomas looked up and cocked both eyebrows, wearing a questioning expression on his face.

„Excuse me?", Thomas muttered pensively.

„Why are you staring?" _… at my mate_. Dean's nostrils flared his emerald-green circles burning up with boiling anger.

„Was just thinking." Now he looked at the younger Winchester as if he had just woken up. He sighed then and dropped his gaze. „I was an ass.", he admitted silently. „Maybe there are a hand full of humans out there that aren't assholes." A faint smile ghosted over his lips as he stole a glance at Sam's back who didn't dare to move.

Dean eyed the other wolf closely, some of the tension falling away from his shoulders. Then he looked at Sam who wore a gently smile on his face. „He says I'm not an asshole." His smile morphed into a grin.

The younger Winchester looked confused at his mate and then at Thomas with a look that said _did-i-miss-something_?

Sam turned around to get a look at Thomas, whose expression had hardened in the meanwhile again. „ _I said_ : A hand full of humans aren't assholes. - I didn't say you're not an asshole."

But the human's face softened even more. Bright hazel-green eyes beamed at Thomas and then he mouthed a _Thank You_.

Just for a small moment there was a flash of warmth in Thomas' eyes before they turned cold again.

SPN ~

Dean brought some yoghurt for Sam later. He still needed to pack up weight, but somehow Sam's body refused to. The wolfman had thought about the chubby guy from those days in the past. When Sam had seemed to be happy – at least when he was with him.

He hadn't have a clue what had been going on in the Campbell's house and he blamed himself for that. Maybe things would be different now if he would've noticed.

Sam stared into his book but was barely reading. He was thinking. About the things John had said to him earlier. He turned and twisted the older male's words in his head until his mind was able to wrap itself around them.

Sam didn't want Dean to have anyone else beside him. He WANTED this. Not just because he felt like he had to make something up to the man or the others. Because it felt right. Because it had always felt right. Even back then when he didn't even know what was happening to him.

He had always known – somehow – that he belonged to Dean and vice versa.

He also knew what it was that was on Dean's mind lately. Why he was disappearing every morning into the bathroom to sneak back under the covers minutes later. Despite of all of what had happened to him … he was still a grown up with his mind in order. Even when it sometimes didn't look that way.

Sam knew he had his issues with the world out there. He KNEW that he wouldn't stand a single day among strangers.

But here? Here he could. Here he was home. Because Dean meant to be home ... _and so much more._ For the first time in a long time he felt loved. He felt respected and valued.

From all of Dean's pack – also Thomas. The man might not said it out loud, but he obviously started to at least accept him after he had _proofed_ that he was worth of being kept among the pack.

* * *

Days later no other wolf was sensed on and around the Salvage again.

They had come to terms, that Bobby, Caleb and Ash would continue their work in the garage, while Dean would stay with Sam, Ellen and John until further.

* * *

The night had already taken its hold on the land.

Dean Winchester scooped Sam up on his arms on their way upstairs. Sam chuckled and tried to get his feet back on the ground.

The older male stopped with a soft smile on his lips. „Please.", He said, giving Sam a pleading look, „ _Let me ..._ "

Sam wrapped his arms around Dean's neck as an answer. He actually felt pretty stupid since he was the taller one of the both of them. But then again … why not? It felt good and comfortable.

He leaned his head into Dean's shoulder and closed his eyes, a small smile tugging on his lips.

Actually he felt like a girl at times … but he was pretty sure that he was male. - Okay most of the time he was male. Sometimes – for example: When they kissed – he felt like a girl. Dean was definitely the dominating one so far …

The younger Winchester carried him down the corridor and into their room, shutting the door with a gentle tip of his foot. He then laid Sam down on the bed, sealing his lips over the human's, as he leaned over him. One of his lower arms snug between Sam's neck and the mattress, the other one resting on his mate's hip.

Their kiss deepened, as Sam tentatively asked for permission with his tongue, to enter. Dean moaned softly into the kiss, while Sam spread out beneath him, crossing his arms by the wrists above his head. - Giving Dean permission to touch him.

It had become a nonverbal thing between the both of them. Because Dean wouldn't touch him like he was going to do now – if Sam didn't show that he was completely into this at the moment.

Dean definitely took his mate's offer as an invitation to explore Sam's body with his hands all over again.

The older male pulled his arm free and he cupped Sam's head in his hand, holding him in place. He lowered himself onto the human, holding most of his weight off of him.

Sam shifted and wrapped his long arms around him, pulling him closer so that their bodies were flush against each other's.

They had made out the last couple of days a couple of times. But never further than kissing and a little bit touching (everywhere but not THERE). Dean didn't plan to go any further tonight, even when the little wolf in his boxers wanted it another way. Sure it got heated up, when Dean's hands suddenly were everywhere, but he always had stopped himself as soon as Sam seemed to get more and more unsure about what they were doing.

Dean had promised himself he wouldn't take advantage of Sam's submissiveness wich he still showed at times. Specially when it was like one of _those_ situations. When Sam wasn't quite okay with the way their actions were going, he got very fast very silent and would become small below him. He became still then and his look wary and that were the moments when Dean realized that it was over for the both of them.

What also meant that it was over for the werewolf that started to rumble in his cage every time when they got closer to having sex.

Sam tilted his head back, baring his throat to the other male, who nipped and sucked his way down, luring a guttural moan from the man's throat beneath. Dean's hands brushed upwards on the bare skin of Sam's flanks, taking the offending fabric of a shirt and a tee with them.

The wolfman's touch sent pleasurable sparkles and tingles all over Sam's skin, making him arch into the touch with eagerness.  
Sam made these small noises every time he did this … and to be honest? Dean loved to make the human make specially these. Silent gasps and low animal-like purrs … arrousing sounds he had never heard before – of anyone.

Sam arched his hips up against Dean's, licking over his lower lip. Dean gave a low growl, pushing down against him, straddling him as he started to grind his already hard erection against Sam's.

And Sam made these silent noises again as he did so. Noises he had never heard from HIS human before.

The way Sam's face changed when they were together like this, the way his rose lips parted and his cheeks flushed even deeper. When he closed his eyes and it was only about their feelings anymore …

Dean Winchester loved that. Scratch that. He didn't just love it, he was going crazy about it.

Sam's warm hands found their way under the other male's shirt. The need to feel Dean's skin against his was simply overwhelming. Sam'd do everything for him. EVERYTHING. And though … he still felt shy about showing himself to Dean. Sure he knew that the man had seen him like god had created him before … but this was different. It _felt_ different.

He trusted Dean. He knew the Winchester wouldn't hurt him – not knowingly.

Sam wouldn't bother and free Dean from his clothes. He wouldn't bother to get on his knees for him. But that wasn't what Dean wanted – obviously. Because he could've had it anytime … and he just didn't want Sam to do just that. He had made that clear before.

The younger Winchester had refused to let it happen. He wanted Sam to enjoy it, to want it too. And not that he felt like he had to do what Dean longed for. Because that wasn't the point of it.

The human writhed underneath him, pressing firmer against Dean's arousal, the sweetest of sounds became louder until Dean covered his mouth with his mate's and drank them down.

And then Dean came … just from this. From the feeling of Sam against him, making all these sounds because of him. - _Just_ **for** _him._

Because Sam was obviously _enjoying_ what Dean did, the way he moved, the way he kissed him slow and deep.

And Dean kept going – because for Sam it wasn't over yet. He wanted to let Sam _feel_ what he felt, let him experience how it felt to come apart with someone he loved …

But as soon as Dean laid his hand on the zipper of Sam's jeans, Sam stilled and fell silent all of a sudden. He bit his lower lip, eying Dean with watery eyes.

The younger Winchester laid his forehead on Sam's chest and slowly pulled his hand away from him. He then gave Sam a feather light kiss, laying his hand on his mate's cheek.

„It's okay ...", he whispered silently, „I won't do anything you don't me to, Sweetheart."

Sam blinked his tears away, watching Dean as he settled beside him on the bed. The human then turned on his side to face the older male for a moment and then buried his face in Dean's chest. So hard, it looked like he HAD TO suffocate. But he actually managed somehow – to Dean's wonder – not to.

„I'm so sorry.", Sam muttered into Dean's shirt. „I don't know what's wrong with me ...", his words weren't more than a muffled half-sobs.

„Nothing's wrong with you, Sammy.", Dean whispered into his ear, brushing with his lips over the human's earlobe. „Nothing's wrong. - You aren't ready, that's all. - And that's okay … completely okay." He placed another tender kiss on the tip of the other man's scalp. „Don't you worry about it."

He cupped Sam's head in one of his hands and guided it sideways, so his face wasn't longer buried in his chest. Dean kissed his forehead and fondled his hair, caressing his scalp gently.

Sam's body started to tremble with silent weeping, when Dean pulled the comforter over the both of them.

Dean hushed him silently. „Don't push yourself. - It's gonna happen some day and I'll wait for you."

Sam listened to the soft thumps of the other male's heart, soothing him.

„You hear that?", Dean asked with a small smile, as he heard Sam's heart falling into the same rhythm as his own, „It's beating just for you, Sammy. - Just for you ..." He closed his eyes for a brief moment. „So I'll wait for you until you're ready. There are pretty many other things we can do in the meantime. - Things that don't include our downstairs brain."

That might have been a lie … But hey, Dean Winchester was just a man too …

Dean wrapped his arms around the taller man and held him tight, stroking his back gently with his free hand as he held him, until the two of them fell asleep.

… _... to be continued_

* * *

  
  


** Of Werewolves And Humans **

** Chapter 21 ~ You're Beautiful **

THEN:

„ _You hear that?", Dean asked with a small smile, as he heard Sam's heart falling into the same rhythm as his own, „It's beating just for you, Sammy. - Just for you ..." He closed his eyes for a brief moment. „So I'll wait for you until you're ready. There are pretty many other things we can do in the meantime. - Things that don't include our downstairs brain."_

_That might have been a lie … But hey, Dean Winchester was just a man too …_

_Dean wrapped his arms around the taller man and held him tight, stroking his back gently with his free hand as he held him, until the two of them fell asleep._

* * *

NOW:

Sam wasn't able to control it. As much as he WANTED to give it to Dean, as much as he wished his mind would obey his body to do so … he couldn't. He simply couldn't and he didn't even know why.

Dean was so patient with him. He backed off every time he sensed that Sam's mood was flipping upside down … Something in Sam's mind – that little nagging bad voice – was telling him that it hurt, that he'd lough at him, that Dean would finally realize how pathetic he was. And then there was this other voice that told him that this was nonsense, that Dean'd like him just for what he was, for what he WAS ABLE to give.

Every time the younger Winchester was about to come closer to Sam's lower apartment everything zoned back at the cage, the room, the everythings that had hurt so much. Physically and mentally. And then he felt embarrassed and ashamed. Because he wasn't clean. Wasn't sober. Wasn't what the other male was supposed to have.

Because he knew he had been a whore. Everyone's bitch.

And somehow Sam didn't understand why Dean didn't just make him do it. Why Dean didn't just take what he wanted from him. It would've been all so much easier.

But just as life was … it'd never be easy.

Sam didn't understand why everything had to be difficult and why he felt so different. For these people on the TV-shows everything looked simple and easy. Sam wished it'd be the same for him. That he could just forget within two episodes what had happened to him, what he had done to survive … and what he had done so he'd be allowed to leave this world.

* * *

When he woke up he was still enveloped in a pair of strong arms, holding him. He was still in the same position as he had fallen asleep.

Sam stirred and a comfortable moan came over his lips, as he nestled closer to Dean. Their legs were tangled in each others.

They were still wearing their clothes from the day before. Neither of them have had the will to get up again – leaving the amazing embrace of the other male – to take a shower.

Dean woke up moments later, tightening his hold on Sam for a moment, feeling him against his own body, making sure he was there – _with him_.

The younger Winchester smiled at the realization.

Dean yawned and nuzzled with his nose into Sam's messed up mop of hair.

„Hey, sweetheart.", he muttered, taking in a deep breath through his nose, filling his lungs with the amazing scent of cheep shampoo and Sam. He blinked and groaned, flexing the muscles in his back, „No nightmares?"

Sam shook his head. _No_. And inhaled a deep breath of Dean's typical motor-oil and metal scent.

„Need to take a shower.", Sam muttered without opening his eyes. „We reek."

Dean chuckled, guiding his upper hand on Sam's flank, running his fingers over the edges of his bandage.

„Let me have a look first." The Winchester's voice was still husky and deeper as it'd be later when he was fully awake.

Sam snatched a glance at the other man's face. He sat up slowly and pushed the comforter back.

Dean watched his every move, drank in the sight before him. Sam's ruffled hair, the imprint of the pillow on his right half of the face. The now stronger looking muscles on his neck as he slipped out of the shirt and his tee.

The wolfman blew out a slow breath, as he watched the human's bare body beside him. The muscles that worked under his skin, as he rose his arms and stretched.

„Beautiful.", Dean whispered, staring at him as he wanted to eat him up. „So beautiful." He extended his arm and traced with his fingers down Sam's bare back.

The human looked back over his shoulder at the smiling male and smiled back shyly.

„Come here.", Dean whispered, biting his lower lip.

Sam hesitated, a range of emotions playing over his face before he obeyed Dean's request and settled back down on the bed, rolling to his side so he was facing him.

Dean traced his fingertips over the human's shoulder and chest, following it with his look.

Suddenly the air seemed thick and heavy to breathe for Sam. Load with a mixture of emotions he couldn't quite name.

„You're looking a lot better.", Dean said whispering, „A couple of pounds more ..." _…. a lot couple of pounds._ He looked up, fixing Sam with his gaze, making sure he had his attention, „... and you're back on the weight you should have."

Sam frowned, as Dean's fingertips traveled further down over his – still bony looking – ribcage and stomach. His breathes came in short puffs, as Dean laid his open palm on the human's stomach.

Dean leaned forward and brought his lips to Sam's ear. „I'd be afraid of breaking you, Sammy." He swallowed. „You're still not eating enough. I want you to be healthy and good fed. - I want you to get stronger."

Sam's eyebrows furrowed. „I'd get fat.", he gave back, feeling the warmth of the other man's hand soaking through his skin and spreading comfortably beneath it, surrounding him, making him feel _wanted_ , feel _safe_ , feel _loved_.

Dean's hand made its way back up and cupped his cheek, rubbing with his thump over Sam's cheekbone.

„You're not fat.", he said assuring. „I don't know what they said to you, I don't know why you're afraid of having a few pounds too much on your ribs. - IF you get fat, I'm gonna get fat with ya' when we're old." Dean smiled. „And even if you'd get a belly. - Hell, I'd love it." He was on the verge of drowning in his dark hazel-eyes. „I'd have a lot more of you then than I have now. You'd be all soft and cosy." His last words were a soft purr in Sam's ears, streaming through his body, making him shudder from the hidden promises behind them.

Sam tore his gaze away, closing his eyes. He sucked his lower lip in, biting down on it.

„Look at me.", Dean demanded softly.

Sam did.

„I'd stay with you. No matter what. You understand?", he asked, worry in his eyes that Sam wouldn't understand. „No matter how you look like. No matter how we'll change. - I'll be here with you for the rest of our lives."

A smile tugged on the corners of Sam's lips. „The mate-thing makes you say that ..."

Dean chuckled and shook his head slightly. „Maybe. - Maybe not. We'll never know."

Sam smiled now shyly, leaning into the other man's touch and blinked at him. Then his smile faded again as fast as it had appeared. „It's … we didn't. - I was … I was too chubby in the beginning ..."

Dean's smile faded too and morphed into something serious.

„They let me starve for two weeks before … before I was allowed to eat again. - They made me do things for food … and I didn't want to, so they gave me nothing. - And then … I just couldn't anymore. I was so hungry … my body hurt … I'd have died for a piece of bread or something ..." Sam paused.

Dean listened, giving him time, while his own heart broke and shattered to pieces. While he tried to not let his animalistic temper take control. He could've punched the wall, could've cried and destroyed the whole room as he felt the hurt and still gaping wounds of Sam's soul ripping open all over again while he was talking.

„I did everything they wanted me to, when I was hungry enough ..." It was about the words that stayed unspoken. „Before you got me … Dean … I didn't want this life anymore. I didn't. - And than they decided … when I got weaker … that they couldn't use me for the other stuff anymore … because their clients didn't want me like that … they got me into one of the cages. And I knew that was the only way to free myself. So I decided that I wanted to die. Deep inside I KNEW that I had to die to be free. - And the only way for me to do that …." Sam's voice broke on its way a couple of times. „I just needed to get weaker. I was sure that when I wouldn't be able to pull thru another night with these men – when they'd get me out of there dead, or at least half-dead – that they'd end me … that it'd be all good then. - And when they took me from the cell and told me that you and John had ordered the whole nine yard … I was so afraid at first. I thought about the pain and what'd come before you'd finally kill me. - But then … then I knew I had made the right choice. That it'd end and that I'd be free ..."

„You're not with them anymore, baby boy. - You don't have to do things for food. You don't have to feel like you have to ...", his mate whispered gently. „You ARE free now ..."

„But it feels that way, Dean." Sam sniffed and closed his eyes, trying to hide the shame in them. „I can't change how I feel."

Dean wiped the single tear from Sam's cheek, blowing out a long-drawn pensive breath. He had known something was off about the eating-thing ever since he had found the chocolate bars Ash had given to him every now and then, in the middle-drawer of their closet. Well hidden in the furthest back corner. – Now he – at least – KNEW. Now he'd be able to work on it _with_ Sam. At least he'd try.

„I know I'm a screw up, Dean." He looked up for a moment.

Dean shook his head and forced himself to smile. „No." He brushed another tear away. „You're might screwed up, but I'd know no one else who wouldn't be if he was in your place. No one who'd take it like you do." The wolf traced with his thump along his mate's cheekbone. „Other's would've given up years ago …"

Sam sniffed and turned on his back to get one of the tissues from the box beside the bed, to clean his nose.

„Come on and get a fresh set of clothes. - I'll show you something.", Dean said after a long while as it seemed that Sam had calmed down again.

The human blinked up at his mate questioning, but nodded.

They got fresh clothes from the closet, after the human had covered his upper body with the shirt he had stripped off before, and Dean led Sam down to the bathroom. When they were inside, the wolfman snapped the lock shut.

Sam flinched unconsciously at the sound, that still made him feel uneasy.

Dean laid his clothes beside the sink on a chair, then he took Sam's and placed them there too. He went to the wooden white closet in between the shower stall and the bathtub and opened the door that reached from the bottom to the top, revealing a mirror on its inside. It was high enough to capture the reflection of a tall person like Sam was easily.

Dean then went behind him and laid his hands on Sam's shoulders, guiding him in front of it, so that he was able to see himself from tip to toe. The wolfman traced his hands down his shoulders, over his bicep and forearms.

Sam looked away, not willing to look at himself. Not willing to see all the shame, to see what he had become.

„Look at you.", Dean whispered, rubbing gentle circles in between the human's shoulder blades with his thumps.

Sam obeyed hesitantly, then he looked at Dean's reflection in the mirror, trying to figure out what the other male had in his mind.

Dean smiled at him, his hands brushing down over his back and to the front around Sam's middle, resting there for a while.

„You didn't watch yourself in a mirror for some time, did you?", Dean asked after a while.

Sam shook his head.

„What is it that you're afraid to see?", he asked then, his hands resting on Sam's too flat belly.

Sam blinked at Dean's reflection. _…. all of it._

„I think you should see yourself with my eyes, sweetheart.", Dean said after a while, locking his gaze with Sam's in the mirror. He guided his hands up, ghosting over the thin fabric to the upper button of Sam's shirt. „You're one hell of a guy, Sammy.", he unbuttoned the first one, „Every single gay guy and hetero girl would get the hots for you." He smiled as he unbuttoned another two. „You're a handsome man, behind that mop of hair you're wearing." He brushed the dark strands of hair out of Sam's face, that had fallen over his eyes.

Sam swallowed audibly, trying to look aside once more, as Dean brushed the fabric away on both sides. His hands went up again on the seam and pulled the – now open - shirt back, so it slid from Sam's shoulders and met the floor moments later.

„Look at you.", Dean whispered, tracing a finger down Sam's spine before he settled his hands on Sam's hips. „You're handsome."

The human shivered. Not from the coolness of air. - More because of the embarrassment he felt. Because he KNEW he wasn't handsome. Wasn't beautiful. Hell, he didn't want to see himself. Not now. _Not ever._

Dean forced Sam's head gently up, to make him look at himself.

Sam did, but pushed back, trying to get away from his own reflection as it stood for everything he never wanted to be.

Dean shushed him. He held him in place gently but firm. The wolfman sensed his mates distress. He did. But he wouldn't let go. _Not that easy._ He'd show him what he saw when he looked at Sam.

Sam's heart sped up slightly as his look fell back into the mirror, staring at himself. A slender someone he actually didn't recognize. Didn't want to recognize.

Dean traced the fingertip of his index finger down Sam's neck and clearly visible collarbone, down his solar plexus and the ribs that stood out slightly. The curve under his solar plexus that was way too stretched towards the inside, showing the definite lack of muscles and fat there.

Features that were usually hidden under oversized hoodies and lose shirts.

Dean traced one of the healed gashes along to Sam's bellybutton.

„It doesn't matter what you look like.", he said with a sad expression on his face. „Like this … or with twohundred-and-sixty pounds. - You'll always be mine, Sam." He caught his mate's reflecting look. „As long as you're comfortable with it I'll be too."

He slowly moved his hands towards Sam's waistband, hooking his thumps in.

Sam just stared at his own reflection, the wheels in his mind rattling away.

Dean leaned closer against Sam's back, staring at Sam's reflection in the mirror. He then placed a gentle kiss on Sam's bare shoulder.

„You've a strong will. - They tried to break you – I know that. But deep down you know they couldn't. They haven't been able to. Deep down there's still YOU. - We just have to find it and lure it back out towards the surface."

Dean started to unbuckle Sam's belt – ever so slowly – waiting for the human to protest and back away. But he didn't. He just watched Dean in the mirror as he did so.

Then the jeans were gone and he stood there in just his black boxer briefs. Feeling beyond embarrassed.

„You don't have to be.", Dean whispered, wrapping his arms around Sam's middle. „One day you'll at least accept that you're one hell of a handsome guy, even if you won't admit it. - One day you'll realize what I see in you." His voice was filled with pure sex and huskiness at this point.

He placed another kiss on Sam's shoulder. „And now get your shower before you're freezing to death ..."

He needed to get out of there before the wolf – wich grew stronger with every passing day – would dare to take over control. Seeing his mate like this, feeling him so close _like this_ … It was close to unbearable as he wasn't allowed to touch.

Dean was about to turn around and leave, when he felt a strong grip around his right wrist. „Don't ..." Sam stood there, a pleading look on his face. „Would you ..." He looked back in the mirror for a moment and then over his shoulder at Dean, whose bright eyes beamed at him. „Would you stay with me? … Like … like in the shower? - Would you?"

And Dean nearly lost it – _right there._ His eyes grew dark, as his emerald-green circles morphed into the color of the stormy sea. „If you want me to?"

He actually didn't know if it'd be a good idea to join Sam. - On the other hand … Sam had invited him to stay. So all he had to do was to hold his temper and the inner beast under control.

A small smile tugged on Sam's lips and he nodded shyly.

While Sam turned on the water, Dean stripped down, tossing the reeking clothes to the side and went under the spray of hot water. Sam hesitated for a moment before he stripped his boxers down, as if he wanted to reconsider his offer.

Dean just smiled at him, trying to hide his own distress behind it. Looking anywhere but Sam's eyes as he extended his hand. „It's warmer in here.", he said then.

And Sam took his hand and let himself be led under the spray of water. They stood there for a while, looking into each other's faces, before they actually had their shower.

Dean lathered Sam's hair richly and scrubbed his back gently. Thinking of corpses and horror-movies and the Cardashians …

The Winchester traced with his fingers along the scars, down to Sam's lower back and up again. Watching the muscles beneath Sam's skin move as he tilted his head back to let the hot spray of water wash over his face.

Dean took exquisite care not to touch Sam anywhere except his back and head and face while he did so. He then turned Sam around, so he'd face him, and began to soap up his chest, drinking in the sight of the wet body before him.

Dean pulled Sam into a gentle kiss, slow and sweet, as their slippery bodies met. The human responded to his kiss, guiding his big hands up and down on Dean's flanks and all over his back. The Winchester held Sam close with an open palm on his lower back and the other one on the back of his head.

Sam did the same for him then. Lathered and rinsed Dean's short hair, rubbed his back until the water came down clear.

Both of them took their time.

Each one dried himself off and got dressed in fresh clothes. They then brushed their teeth together in silence, just communicating with their looks. Dean got a hair dryer from the lowest drawer of the closet beyond the sink and let Sam sit down on the now empty chair.

He switched it on and started to dry the human's hair, running his fingers through the silken softness over and over again. Combing it in the end as it was all dry and soft. Dean laid the dryer aside and placed a gentle kiss on Sam's scalp.

There it was. Dean Winchester's heaven right before him. All squeaky clean and breathing with the most hauntingly scent in the entire world.

If he didn't want to mess that up he had to stay back a little, until his need would subside. He had to keep control over this, otherwise he'd hurt Sam. In more ways than just one …

… _... to be continued_

* * *

  
  


** Of Werewolves And Humans **

** Chapter 22 ~ Playing Games **

THEN:

_He switched it on and started to dry the human's hair, running his fingers through the silken softness over and over again. Combing it in the end as it was all dry and soft. Dean laid the dryer aside and placed a gentle kiss on Sam's scalp._

_There it was. Dean Winchester's heaven right before him. All squeaky clean and breathing with the_ _most hauntingly scent in the entire world._

_If he didn't want to mess that up he had to stay back a little, until his need would subside. He had to keep control over this, otherwise he'd hurt Sam. In more ways than just one …_

* * *

NOW:

Dean and Sam were in the backyard, working on his mate's targeting practice.

Ellen was in the house and prepared dinner for the three of them.

Thomas was at the bar, doing his shift.

Caleb was patrolling on the outer surroundings of the yard.

The rest of the pack was in the garage, trying to get done with their overdue repairs.

Deryl was brooding over the loss of his scout. Was grieving over the loss of his mate. Was forming a plan in his mind, how to punish his wife's killer. He knew he had to be cool about it. He couldn't run half-cocked and hot-blooded into another pack's nest – not like this, not in the mood he was in now.

Now that he knew that the mate-murderer's name was Dean Winchester and that the human they had been hunting for was his mate … _so many possibilities_.

He'd make the pack regret, he'd make Dean Winchester regret. He'd suffer like he was suffering …

* * *

Dean stood about a yard behind Sam, watching him closely, as he aimed and pulled the trigger. Sam had gotten faster, had a better aim and a way better stand now.

The human fired the last round of his clip and hit the target right into its bull's-eye. Sam put the safety back on and turned around to face his mate with a bright smile. „ _See_?"

Dean smiled back at him.: „ _Told you, you'll get better at it_."

„What's my price?", Sam asked out loud and bit his lower lip seductively, tilting his head to the side.

Dean strode towards him through the ankle-deep snow and laid his hands on Sam's hips, pulling him close.

„Come'ere.", Dean said with low voice, about to get lost in Sam's sparkling eyes. So many shades of green and brown got revealed in the bright winter sun. It was unbelievable.  
Their lips met somewhere between here and there. When their tongues met, the world around them blurred into shades and faded slowly.

Dean growled – actually growled – into the kiss. He walked Sam back slowly, backing him up against the wall of Bobby's house.

Sam muttered something into the kiss.

Dean backed off for a moment with a low rumble. „Don't tempt me ...", he whispered breathlessly.

Sam obviously wasn't aware _what_ he did to Dean with a challenge like that one. Sam honestly didn't. The wolf deep inside him was rebelling, daring to break out of his prison as the human's words seeped slowly through his ears and into his mind.

Sam chuckled and gave him an unexpected shove, gaining the much-needed advantage, well knowing that the beast inside the other male wouldn't stand a chance to let it be that way.

Dean stumbled backwards but caught himself before he could lose his balance. And that was the moment he switched into predator-mode.

Meanwhile Sam had taken off across the yard.

The Winchester snarled in a challenged manner and ran after him, though in his human form he was just as fast as a human could possibly be. Including a rabid animal inside him, that spurted him on.

Sam hauled himself up on the wooden fence and was out of sight as soon as he disappeared on the other side, where stacks of car wrecks would hide his tall form.

It was a game – for Sam at least. Whispering in his mate's ear something about _naked_ and _shower_ and that Dean would get to _undress_ him and have the shower together with Sam if he'd find him first was enough incitement to join in. Besides it wouldn't be fun to have it any other way … would it?

Not that Sam wanted to win … he sure as hell didn't. But then again … Dean hadn't made any attempt to take a shower with him ever since _this one time_. So Sam thought he'd need proof that Dean still wanted him … That he needed the closeness as much as he did.

Sure Dean hadn't said anything, that he didn't want to … but he was somehow _different_ lately. He was withdrawn since back then. He was exquisite careful not to touch Sam too much, nor to make him all gooey like before.

It didn't feel like Dean didn't want him anymore … and though, somehow it looked that way. That was what made Sam feel insecure and as if he had done something wrong. Though he couldn't remember what it could've been else, no matter how hard he thought about it …

So yeah, that'd work. Since he wouldn't stand any chance to hide from the wolf … he just had to let it look like if he tried to.

* * *

All Sam was able to hear was the roaring of his blood in his ears, his pants and the way too loud way the snow beneath his feet sounded when he sank in to his ankles. He made way too much noise – Dean'd _smell_ where he was …

A mischievous grin formed on Sam's lips.

Yeah, Dean Winchester knew where his mate strolled around. Not just the unbelievable loud sounds that came from the human's body just two stacks ahead … also his scent was leading him streight to Sam. Though … actually he didn't really want to win, but he knew that Sam knew that he would anyway. Sam'd know that Dean lost the game because he wanted to lose it. So Sam would get even more suspicious about his behaviour if he didn't find him.

Yeah, the wolfman knew about Sam's insecureness. He could sense it. This kind of emotion always had a touch of fear and despair mixed into it. Maybe he'd find a way to win and didn't have to take a shower with Sam _somehow_. Maybe if he'd fake to fall asleep on the couch or something when they'd get back.

Then again … Sam knew that werewolves didn't need as much sleep as he did. Dean just laid with him as much as he actually did, because of Sam … because he liked it to be close to him, watching over him.

Maybe if he'd hold the beast in him under lockdown (wich was way more difficult as it seemed to be), it'd work … even if he was on the verge of getting stir crazy already.

Sam moved again … Dean could sense it. He knew the human was about hundred yards away from him, right behind the stack of cars he would pass in a few seconds.

Dean rounded the wrecks slowly and frowned. Something wasn't right … it smelled like Sam and though …

He lurked around the other corner, his back pressed against one of the wrecks.

There was no Sam – but his jacket was there, hanging on one of the side-mirrors of an old baby-blue Buick in the second row from the ground upwards. A devilish grin tugged on the corners of Dean's lips and something dangerously calculating flared up in his eyes.

No, Sam didn't make it that easy for him. - So if he wanted to play, he would get to play.

The Winchester climbed on top of the stack of wrecks. Suddenly he recognized that Sam's scent seemed to be everywhere. More weird was, that it wasn't just Sam he smelled.

„Urine?", Dean muttered to himself in disbelieve. „Honestly?"

The scent flooded over the Salvage, mixing with the smell of metal and all the other scents. It'd be impossible to know where Sam had been gone when EVERYTHING smelled like a mixture of HIM and _this_. The wolf in him took over, as if he had turned a switch.

Dean didn't even take time to get rid of his clothes before he started to turn. The feeling of not knowing where Sam was, the feel of the hint of panic not to be able to locate his mate took over his mind rapidly. Fear, that god knew what would be able to take him, tear him away from him made the wolfman stir crazy.

And before he knew what hit him, there was just one thought left. _Find Sam._ That and the feeling that he needed to hurry, to find him before anything else could.

With smooth moves and speed his instincts led him criss cross through the chunk yard. Then finally he slowed down, his mood settled the closer he came to _him_. He couldn't tell where exactly Sam was, but he could smell wich of the marks seemed to be the freshest ones.

Internally he wondered how a human bladder was able to hold that much fluid …

Out of the corner of his eyes he caught movement. Something fast had crossed the alley on his left. He slowly narrowed to the edge, knowing that whatever was there, had caught himself in one of the many dead-locks of the stacked wrecks.

* * *

The realization hit Sam pretty fast. He was caught in a dead-end, surrounded by wrecks and Dean sure as hell had sensed him by now somehow. - Had probably seen him out of his peripheral vision as he had crossed the alley.

His look darted frantically upwards. The stacks were too high to be climbed by him at this end and he silently cursed himself for his stupidity. Sam didn't know how, but he knew that something wasn't right. He could feel it. Could somehow SENSE the wolf's distress.

Sam wasn't sure anymore if it had been a good idea to try to make Dean do whatever he wanted him to do. Hell, Sam wasn't even sure anymore what exactly he wanted to claim with the little hide and seek.

His gaze caught the wolf's shape, that appeared slowly a couple of yards before him – at the only exit. Sam's heart pounded against his ribcage, as he backed away until he felt the cold metal against his back and neck. He rose his hands up in surrender, as Dean narrowed slowly.

One paw after another leaving deep prints in the snow.

„You got me." Sam swallowed around the lump in his throat. „I'm givin' in."

The wolf's green eyes fixed Sam's like a carnivore his prey on foray, as he narrowed further. There was no sign of understanding on his face or in the wolf's eyes. No sign that he understood was Sam was telling him.

Only a yard in front of Sam, the wolf stopped in his tracks. His eyes cleared slowly and became the bright emerald-green color they used to have. Moments after that, the turning began and he morphed. Slowly the wolf began to take on his human form with all the sounds of breaking bones and shifting joints, the pained whine, as his yaw deformed and drew back.

When Dean was finally Dean again, he wore a cocky grin on his lips and mischief in his eyes. „Gotcha.", he cocked an eyebrow on the human.

Dean Winchester didn't show the fear or panic he had felt until moments before. _The_ _need_. He didn't show the relieve that flooded through him as he had found Sam breathing and alive and with not a single scratch on him. Dean didn't let on the self-control it took to push the beast back into its cage.

It had been a game … _this time._

„You owe me a shower, sweetheart.", Dean crossed the remaining yard between them both, his bare feet digging into the snow.

There was not a single sign on him that he was freezing, nor even feeling the cold just a bit. Sam on the other side was already shivering without his parker.

The Winchester leaned against Sam, straddling him against the wall of old metal, his hands to the left and right of the human's head. They were close. _So close._ Their lips nearly touching.

„For a moment … I thought ...", Sam's voice was raw and hoarse.

„I'd hunt you?", Dean asked amused.

„Yeah.", the human breathed.

„Good." Dean chuckled and pulled away. „Besides: Who showed you the trick with the pee?"

Sam smiled shyly and blushed. „Ash told me … how to distract wolves in case I'd need it again."

Dean placed a feather light kiss on Sam's rose lips. „Just don't use it on me again, okay?" There was an undertone in Dean's voice that made it sound like an order as a question.

Sam nodded … a little bit embarrassed that he even thought about that Dean could possibly hurt him.

Sam didn't know how close he had gotten to the truth.

* * *

After lunch with Ellen, the both men hung around in the living room. Both of them full with hotdogs, french fries and salad (actually Sam while Dean had eaten most of the sausages anyway).

When Sam had slipped into a peaceful nap, the younger Winchester extracted his thighs from underneath Sam's head and went to Ellen into the kitchen to help her with the dishes.

She smiled at the offered helping hand and tossed Dean a rug.

They were half-way through with the dishes, when Ellen cleared her throat gingerly. She let the plate slide back into the sink and stole a glance at the male beside her.

„What was that in the yard this morning?", she asked calmly.

Dean looked up for a moment. „It was close ...", he answered silently, his voice filled with shame.

Silence.

„For a moment I thought I've to get out there ...", she said then.

„For a moment I thought you'd have to ...", Dean gave back and put the plate aside.

Ellen looked up at Dean and blinked at him, the sunny sparkles in her eyes wiped away. „You've to tell him. He'll understand."

Dean sighed. „I don't wanna push him. - He'll do it because he thinks he has to …"

„It's not pushing. - It's telling him the truth." Ellen rubbed over her face with the back of her hand. „Besides … I don't think that you'd have to push a lot – IF you wanna call it pushing. I think he's just afraid and unsecure about _it_."

„I can control it.", Dean gave back, wanting to end the conversation.

„I didn't say you can't.", she gave back, „It was too close. That's all I'm sayin'."

Another sigh fell from the younger Winchester's lips. „I know."

They worked in absolute silence then until everything was cleaned up and stored again.

Dean felt bad and guilty. Ellen was right. It had been close. _Too close._ He knew the more he locked the wolf's need away to be close (like CLOSE) to his mate, the worse it'd get. The more the wolf inside him would rebel.

Though … if Sam needed time, he'd get time. He could wait. _The wolf could wait._ He'd take care of it.

* * *

Sam slept on the couch for hours, while Dean busied himself upstairs, gathering their laundry and getting it into the washroom. He tried to think of a dozen things to do – things that hadn't to do with Sam.

And it didn't work. Not a little bit.

Everywhere he looked was SAM. His clothes, books ... _his scent._ He couldn't escape – there was no way to escape … except … _leaving._

Dean was about to stuff their clothes into the washing machine, when he heard bare feet shuffling over cool tiles and the unmistakable presence of his mate coming closer.

„Hey, Sammy.", he muttered without looking at the doorway where the footfalls had stopped.

„Hey.", Sam said hoarsely and rubbed with his hands over his eyes. „Can I help you?"

Dean cleared his throat. „I'm done already.", he answered and pushed the power-button.

Sam nodded to himself.

„Maybe Ellen needs your help with something ...", Dean said without turning around. „I've to check the Impala over."

Sam nodded again. This felt so OFF. „Sure", he answered silently, not knowing what else to say. He had told himself that he'd ask Dean what was going on … but then again …

Sam stayed there for a while, until he was sure that Dean was sure that this was what he really wanted. Then he turned around and walked back into the kitchen, while Ellen held a nap in the black leather-recliner in the living-room.

Minutes later, he saw Dean from the corner of his eye walking by, leaving the house through the front-door.

With a thoughtful sigh, Sam leaned against the counter, his gaze wandering over the closets and cupboards of the kitchen.

Actually it was nothing to do … not at all. So Sam sneaked into the living-room, past Ellen and back out with one of Bobby's old books. He didn't think that he was going to read a lot … it was more about thinking.

_Alone._

Without someone crossing his way. Without Dean coming in between him and his thoughts. So he went upstairs and sat on their bed for a while. Soon he thought that it wasn't quite the place he wanted to be. He knew the rooms upstairs. There was no place he could go. No place to truly hide. - All the bedrooms there were occupied.

That was when he thought about the Attic. The perfect place where he'd be all on his own. - Because sometimes … just sometimes he missed it to be alone. Like really alone.

So he got a flashlight from the kitchen-drawer and went back up, where he pulled down the chicken ladder and climbed up on it.

It smelled old and dusty and moldy.

Sam made his way away from the opening and found a place behind boxes and other things where he settled down on an old carpet. With the flashlight in one hand and the book in his lap he skipped through the pages. He read and thought … and thought and read. - Mostly thought … about Dean, about being a mate, about the foreign wolf from the other night, the other pack … everything in general.

He felt ashamed that he – somehow – wasn't able to give Dean what he wanted – what he _needed_. The last step in their boundary. He didn't know what to do … how to act around him recently.

One moment Dean was himself and seemed to be the happiest person in the world. And in the next one he avoided Sam's touch and his presence in general.

So it had to be about him. - Or the mate-thing. Maybe Dean wasn't sure anymore if he wanted to deal with a human as mate.

Finally he came to a conclusion in his mind. He had read so much about werewolves and mates and all that things and had missed something essential.

That they usually would've performed their _first-time_. They would've felt BOTH the same way about it, so actually, they would've had sex already. - like the day before yesterday.

But in this constellation … Dean was probably the only one of the two of them who felt the _urging need_ , the _primeval desire_ to bond with him in that way.

So yeah … it _was_ Sam's fault. It was _because_ of Sam. Dean just wanted to protect him, wanted to give him time, wanted him to feel ready.

The coldness made its way through Sam's clothes and crawled up his limbs slowly. Sure, it would've been easy to go downstairs again to warm up. But Sam didn't want to. Not right now. He still needed time to think – _alone_. Where no one else was and no one was watching him.

Sam leaned back with a heavy sigh, letting his head roll back and stared at the wooden ceiling above him. The human gazed to his left side, where a think dusty linen hung over a floor-lamp and pulled it down to cover his legs with it.

He then turned the flashlight off – staring into the darkness until his eyelids got too heavy and fell closed before he was aware that he had been about to fall asleep.

* * *

Dean had worked on the Impala for way too long. He decided to call it a night when the early evening-sun was ready to set behind the wrecked cars on the horizon of the yard.

The wolf inside him had settled down, while his mind was running a marathon. He knew he couldn't push Sam away like this for any longer.

Ellen was right.

He had to tell him. Tell him that he wanted to give Sam time, but that the need inside him wouldn't let him. That he would spend this night – and all the following ones – apart from Sam. That he couldn't be around him like this.

That seemed to be the only way to deal with this situation properly, before something real bad would happen. Dean didn't trust himself, didn't trust his instincts and the desire that was flaring up in his stomach every time he sensed HIM, smelled HIM, saw HIM.

All over this … after some more thinking … he knew it wouldn't work. Neither of them would be able to stay away from the other one for more than a couple of hours, when they knew that the other one was around somewhere. It was like two poles attracting each other.

There was no way to keep them separated anymore …

* * *

Dean finally decided that it was time to get back into the house – of course after some more thinking. He had thrown his thoughts about leaving Sam with the pack over board.

This was his crap to deal with, his shit he had to keep together. It wasn't Sam's fault. Hell, Sam didn't even know what was going on with him. What was going on with the both of them. What it truly meant, what it meant to be a wolf's mate.

So yeah, he'd go in there, kiss Sam until they would be starving for oxygen and would suck it up. _He was a damn Winchester, wasn't he?_

Ellen was busy in the kitchen with dinner, when he entered the house. He glanced into the room, smelling the dominant scent of meat and the faint one of Sam. He hadn't been downstairs for quite some time.

„Hey, Ellen.", Dean said, gaining the female's attention.

She turned around bewildered and frowned. „Where's Sam?", she asked confused, thinking that the human had been with him.

Dean frowned. „He stayed inside. Thought he's helping you ..."

The female shook her head with a worried expression in her eyes. „Haven't seen him since he woke up and went into the washing-room … _for you_."

Dean closed his eyes for a brief moment, blowing out a deep breath. „Well, he can't be far.", he muttered to himself with a sniff. „High likely he's upstairs, burying his nose in a pile of books.", Ellen chuckled and turned the steak upside-down.

The younger Winchester nodded and went upstairs, his gaze darting towards the chicken ladder at the end of the corridor.

Sam's scent was definitely stronger over there. So he went up the ladder, following the trail towards a stack of wooden boxes and two old floor lamps.

Behind them, he found what he was looking for. _His mate …_

Sam was fast asleep, his head rolled back. A book in his lap and a flashlight in his left hand, snoring comfortably.

Dean smiled and chuckled at the sight before him. Simply adorable. He watched the young human for some time before he squat down and leaned over him. He couldn't resist the opportunity to wake him up like he was going to in a matter of moments.

Dean moved closer, feeling Sam's warm exhales against his yaw. The wolfman brushed tentatively over the human's soft cushions with his soft ones, before he finally sealed them over Sam's in a sweet kiss. Dean leaned in closer, as the human stirred, licking in between his lips.

Sam moaned into the kiss, the flashlight gliding from his hand, as he reached up to cup the wolfman's face in his hands, holding him close.

„Missed you.", Dean whispered in between gentle kisses.

Sam smiled into it, sliding with his tongue in between the other man's teeth. Dean got on his knees before him and pulled Sam up, so that he was kneeling too. He then wrapped his arms around the human and drew him closer, holding him tight like he had been apart from him for way too long. Eating his mouth out, like he had been _starving_ for him.

Sam's hands found their way beneath the other male's shirt, his cool hands seeking the warmth of his body. Muscles flexed under his touch, goosebumps rose on Dean's skin, where Sam's gentle fingers ghosted over him.

„Sammy.", he breathed, tangling his fingers in his mate's long hair, pulling his head back gently.

The human's fingers dug into Dean's skin, as he traced with his lips over Sam's yaw and throat, nipping and sucking on the tender skin there.

Sam gasped, pressing himself against the wolf, tilting his head back even further to give him more access.

Dean tugged the hem of Sam's shirt up on his flank, drawing the human's hips against his, feeling his hardening length upon his own. He made a guttural noise deep down in his throat.

And _holy shit_ – Sam felt like pure sex in his hands, he tasted so sweet and smelled as the one and only medicine he'd ever need to feel happy.

He traced his lips along the human's collar-bone, licking his way along it as far as the fabric would allow.

And Sam trembled, actually trembled. Closing his eyes, letting himself being pulled into the feeling of being wanted, being loved.

Dean would've gone further … if his mind wouldn't have gained its control back over his body. He would've taken Sam right there, if it hadn't been for the faint scent of fear that started to pour from the human's form. He literally tasted it on his skin, smelled as it intensified.

„What are you afraid of?", Dean muttered, placing another gentle kiss over Sam's lips.

Sam's head sunk against his shoulder, slightly panting. „That I can't give you what you need. - That I get hurt. I'm afraid of not being enough, not being what you want.", he whispered, taking his chance to pour out his heart, „... I'm afraid of lettin' go, of loosing it. I'm afraid that you'll be disappointed when we'd do it. That I'm doing it wrong." He paused. „There are so many things I'm afraid of … to many to tell ..."

Silence followed, the air palpable with unasked questions and untold answers.

„I promise you … there's nothing to be afraid of.", Dean brushed strands of chestnut-brown hair out of Sam's face (not that anyone would've been able to see it in the darkness). „Let me be your guide, let me lead you. - I won't disappoint you. You won't disappoint me. - You CAN'T disappoint me." Dean laid his hand on Sam's yaw, sealing his lips again over the other male's tender cushions. „You can't fail. - Trust me, Sam. It'll be amazing. I'll show you how good it is. How it feels like to be loved like this." Another kiss. „I won't hurt you. Would never hurt you."

Sam kissed him back, feeling the heat radiating from the wolfman's body. „You're gonna show me?", he asked hesitantly, biting his lower lip – so close to Dean's, „Tonight?"

Dean suppressed an aroused snarl. „If you want me to ..."

Once more, the human brushed with his lips over Dean's, seeking the warmth of his mouth, the tender flesh of his tongue, saying _Yes_.

… _... to be continued_

* * *

_ WARNING: _ _this chapter contains_ _ EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT _ _between two men (known as SAM & DEAN). So you've been warned!_

_If you want to skip the "sexual content" part, you can skip the WHOLE CHAPTER & wait for the next one ;)_

* * *

** Of Werewolves And Humans **

** Chapter 23 ~ Mine's The Sun, The Moon And The Stars **

THEN:

_Sam kissed him back, feeling the heat radiating from the wolfman's body. „You're gonna show me?", he asked hesitantly, biting his lower lip – so close to Dean's, „Tonight?"_

_Dean suppressed an aroused snarl. „If you want me to ..."_

_Once more, the human brushed with his lips over Dean's, seeking the warmth of his mouth, the tender flesh of his tongue, saying Yes._

* * *

NOW:

Sam sucked the barbecue-sauce from his fingers and licked with his tongue over his open palm, gathering the rest of it.

Dean stared at him, his gaze following the human's every move. Sam had to do that on purpose. _He had to._ There was no way he did that unconsciously, even he made it look that way. Sam's focus was all on the food and specially on the sauce ...

The wolfman shoved another big chunk of meat into his mouth while he stared, listening to the suspicious sounds Sam made beside him as he chewed on the meaty part of the chicken wing in his fingers.

While the others at the table didn't seem to notice Sam's way to eat … _Dean did._ His look following every swipe of his mate's tongue when it darted out in between his lips to lick some of the sauce into his mouth.

The human dipped the wing into the dark-brown-red sauce again, licking it from the wing before he actually took another bite, stuffing a fork full of green salad into his mouth afterwards.

No need to explain what Dean would do with a jar of barbecue-sauce and Sam … alone … _right fucking now_ ...

He forked up another piece of medium-grilled steak and dipped it in Sam's sauce.

Sam followed the piece of meat on the fork with his gaze, that just had been put through HIS sauce, and landed in Dean's mouth. Sam watched him chewing it slowly and frowned.

The wolfman rose an eyebrow at him and licked the sticky fluid from his lips. Sam looked around the table.

Everyone was eating.

Then his look fell at the big jar of sauce in the middle of the table, then his gaze wandered back at Dean.

Sam grinned at him, dipping another wing into the sauce on his plate and licked it off – definitely aware now of what he was doing.

Dean's eyes darkened. No he didn't think this was funny. _Not at all._ But Sam obviously did. What a little bastard he was.

When they were done, they chatted a little bit, drank irish coffee or just irish without coffee. Dean vanished for some time upstairs, excusing himself that he needed to use the bathroom. When he returned, Sam already looked tired – AGAIN. His cheeks were flushed from the alcohol, his lips bright rose and a playful sparkle in his eyes lit up as he saw Dean coming back down the stairs.

It wasn't that he was drunk or something. It was from the warmth, that spread through his body from the shot of alcohol in his coffee.

Dean's gaze locked with Sam's as he slowly walked down the stairs, never leaving his human out under his watch. His eyes filled with warmth and love and adoration, promising Sam so much.

* * *

Dean Winchester led his mate into the bathroom. He had said they wouldn't need their pyjamas anyway. And when Sam got this insecure and wary expression – that got nothing to do with distrust – he would just kiss him and ask if he trusted him enough for this.

And Sam gave him a small smile and a short nod, letting himself be led into the bathroom.

There hung two bathrobes over the retainer and a couple of towels. Nothing more. Nothing less.

When Dean stood behind him, wrapping his arms around Sam's middle, Sam looked back over his shoulder, laying his hands over Dean's, asking.

„I won ... So I'll get you all naked and under the shower. - I'll show you what it is like to be with me. How good it's gonna be ...", Dean whispered into Sam's ear, nipping on his earlobe, „Do you trust me in this?"

Sam squeezed the other male's hands gently, breathing out a „ _Yes_ ".

There was no insecurity in Sam's voice, nor doubt. _He meant it._

Sam's hands slid from Deans, and the older male guided one of his hands under the hem of Sam's shirt, letting it rest on his belly and ghosted with the fingers of the other one over the soft flannel. He nipped and kissed the human's neck, as he – ever so slowly – started to unbutton his shirt. When the two halves slid apart, Sam straightened his shoulders, so the wolfman was able to brush it off of him.

„So sweet.", he breathed, kissing along Sam's shoulder, as his hands wandered over his exposed chest. „So beautiful."

Sam gasped, as Dean guided one of his hands over his left nipple, sending a new kind of feeling through his mate's body. The human's eyes slid closed, his head rolling back.

Dean did it again and Sam made a small noise.

„That's it." the wolfman's voice had dropped lower, more sensual. „Let it go. - I'll lead you." He sucked and licked over one of the most sensitive places on his skin, mapping Sam's front with his hands, feeling the soft and scarred skin beneath his fingers.

After what felt like eternity, Dean's hands found their way down over the human's flat belly and wandered over his navel towards the waistband of Sam's jeans.

„Are you sure?", Dean breathed into Sam's ear, „We can stop any time you want to …"

Sam held his eyes closed, laying his hand over Dean's and guided it further down, laying it over the clasp of his belt.

Saying _I trust you._

Dean made a sound that wasn't quite animal-like, nor human. Something in between. Though so soft and filled with love. One sound that was able to say more as thousands of words ever could.

Soon after, Sam's jeans were gone and he remained in his loose boxers, leaning against Dean's fully clothed body. The human's cheeks were flushed, his hands trembling from the flood of unknown emotions that washed over him.

The trust. The knowing. The love … so pure and clean. The feeling of being home, while Dean caressed his body – ever so gently – with his lips, eyes and hands.

Dean's hands settled on the human's hips and he turned him around. Sam opened his eyes then for the first time, since Dean had started to undress him. The wolfman cradled the human's face in his hands, searching his eyes for something he didn't exactly knew he wanted to see.

But there was nothing. Nothing that told him that Sam didn't want this, nothing that smelled like he seemed to be uncomfortable or even afraid of what they were doing. _He truly trusted him._

So Dean kept going. He captured Sam's lips, moving his against the human's, guiding Sam's hand to his own shirt, telling him without words what he wanted him to do.

And Sam did.

Both were in their boxers minutes later, two bodies tangled in each other as they stood there. Mapping out and exploring each other's form with nothing more but the tips of their fingers.

This was so much more as Dean had ever thought he'd be able to share with the human. So much more as if he thought it would feel like.

It felt incredibly amazing to be close to his mate like this. His skin against Sam's, his hands all over the human's form. It seemed like he just fit – the curve of his whole frame against Dean's and the feeling of two halves becoming one.

When Dean tugged on Sam's boxers, the human tensed for a moment, telling himself that Dean would be his guide. That there was nothing to be afraid of. He told himself, that he trusted Dean more than anyone before and that he wouldn't hurt him. That Dean had said that there was nothing he could possibly do wrong.

That it'd be okay. That he'd know what to do – _just like that._

When Dean's hands remained there, Sam tugged his thumps into the waistband of the other male, tugging on it questioning - questioning.

Dean smiled into their never-ending kiss and moved his hand on the human's lower back further down, sliding into his boxers, resting his hand on Sam's left buttock, feeling firm muscles work under his touch.

And Sam responded so beautifully. He pressed up against him with a silent moan from the depths of his soul.

Short after both of them were undressed and in the shower. They parted then, lathered each other up. Dean leaned into his mate, guiding the hand on his back down with his slick lathered hand over the luscious globes of his butt. The wolfman's fingers ran in between them, punching a surprised noise out of HIS Sam as he traveled over his creased middle.

Dean turned him around so that Sam was facing the wall, his cheek resting against Sam's shoulder blade, as he caressed his cleft, brushing over his puckered middle gently. Driving soft gasps and aroused noises from the human. The wolfman moaned, biting Sam's shoulder, as the man before him arched back against his touch.

Sam braced himself against the wall, his head thrown back with closed eyes, his mouth slightly agape and his cheeks flushed pink, letting himself being drawn away by the growing need deep inside him.

When Dean's fingertip entered him, Sam made a surprised noise and kept still for a moment, waiting for his mate, feeling the slick finger pushing gently further into him. First it felt weird and though as if it was the most amazing thing in the world – with DEAN. _Only Dean._

Being close to him like this. That the male wolf WANTED him like this ...

Dean didn't care if they'd use up all the hot water. He didn't care if someone would hear them. Hell, he didn't care if the whole world would burn down around them right at the moment. All that counted was Sam. _Just Sam._

The wolfman closed his eyes for a short moment, letting his mate's soft noises sink in. He reached up with his free hand and adjusted the shower-head, so that Sam was directly in the water's spray, so that HIS human wouldn't get cold.

Dean worked his finger slowly further into him, while he tentatively traced with his fingers around Sam's flank, drawing a circle around his belly button, before his hand traveled deeper, feeling the trail of soft hair that led his way towards the human's achingly hard arousal.

When he laid his hand on HIM, Sam's whole body shuddered at the sudden stimulation. A strangled groan fell from his lips, as Dean started to drag the tender skin of his length downwards to its base – ever so slowly – and back up again.

"So beautiful like this.", the wolfman rumbled, adding a second finger when Sam started to push back against him. The pads of Sam's fingers against the tiles white from he force he used to hold himself up.

When Dean finally found AND hit that special soft spot deep inside Sam, the human couldn't hold back a cry of pure pleasure.

Dean smiled against Sam's shoulder-blade, adding another finger – making him ready, showing him how beautiful sex was with the right person could be. How immensely amazing it felt.

He bit his lower lip, gripping Sam's manhood a bit firmer, as his own arousal whipped with his small movements, painting invisible trails of precome along the back of Sam's thigh, where it brushed up and down.

When Sam started to writhe and his silent cries and gasps and pants increased, Dean sped up his pace, turning Sam into a moaning mess of jello.

The heat in Sam's belly spread – first slow and steady and then ... then it felt like something exploded deep inside him, a feeling of pleasure, so keen, so pure. There were no words for that. It took Sam's breath, his eyes rolling back in his head, as white droplets splattered the beige tiles before him.

Finally, after what seemed like an aeon later, Sam sucked in a shuddering breath, his knees buckling with the force that had just drove through him. He felt himself soften in Dean's hand, the pleasurable feeling of being filled slowly vanishing, as his mate pulled his fingers free.

Dean laid his hands on Sam's hips and turned him around, backing him up against the wall, pressing his body against Sam's, crushing his lips onto the human's, as he buried his fingers in his long wet hair.

Sam kissed him back – still in a post-orgasmic haze, wrapping his long arms around him, ready to get on his knees before his mate.

But Dean didn't let him.

"That's not what I want, Sammy." Dean's voice was low and filled with love and so many other emotions – too many to tell.

A shy smile tugged on Sam's lips as he blinked at him with flushed cheeks. "I know ..." Then he looked at Dean's chest and back up. "You'll lead. - I'll follow.", he whispered.

Dean rinsed Sam's hair and his body off until the water came down clear.

Sam did the same for Dean, rinsing his short hair and body until there was no foam left.

When they were done, they dried each other off, worshipping their bodies.

Dean helped Sam into his bathrobe. Then he dressed himself in one and took Sam's hand, looking up into bright hazel-eyes – asking if he was still sure. If he truly wanted to make this step with Dean. And Sam just blinked at him with a smile on his lips, his eyes filled with love and happiness.

Dean didn't need to hear it. He SAW it.

The two of them tossed the damp towels into the box beside the sink. Then the wolfman led HIS human into their bedroom. His wolfish senses guiding him through the darkness towards the bed, leading Sam. He switched on the light on the nightstand and turned around to face his human.

A soft smile tugged on Dean's lips, as he brushed the bathrobe from his own shoulders, letting it sink to the floor. He then did the same to Sam's. Dean felt the human's looks on him, all over him.

His gaze found its way back to Sam's shiny eyes. He cupped the human's face in his hands and placed a gently kiss on his lips, walking him back to the edge of the bed where he laid him down.

Dean crawled over him, urging him into the middle of the bed while he kissed him.

Sam led himself being guided.

A strong hand tangled its fingers in the human's damp hair, pulling his head back slighty. Sam felt the wolfman's arousal touching his thighs every now and then, as he hovered over him. Dean kissed his way down over Sam's neck, chest and belly, swirling his tongue around the human's navel and guided it with small nips and tender kissed back up.

When their lips found each other's again, they kissed – slow and sweet and amazingly gentle. Sam's hands on the wolfman's back, fingertips caressing tender skin.

The younger male exhaled a shuddering breath as he felt Dean's erection brushing against his newly growing one.

Low moans and guttural sounds fell from Dean's lips, as he felt Sam's manhood grow beneath himself.

Dean's hand made its way under the pillow and found what he was looking for. A small bottle of lube.

He held it in his fist, kissing Sam again, this time more demanding, more urgent.

"We don't have to do this ...", Dean breathed, looking deep into dilated hazel-eyes. A touch of concern swinging along his words, his gaze searching Sam's face closely.

A reassuring smile built up on Sam's face. "I'll follow you wherever you lead me, Dean." No doubt, no insecurity in his words.

Dean smiled at him. Pure love and adoration reflecting back at the human upon his words of trust.

The wolfman inched back a little bit, kissing his way down Sam's neck, as he sank in between his long legs.

Dean uncapped the lube and slicked up his achingly hard manhood. Sam spread his thighs wider apart, giving the other male some more space, as he watching him biting his lower lip.

Dean sat back on his heels and took in the body before him, drinking in the sight. He tossed the lube to the side and crawled back over Sam – a way better idea dawning in the back of his mind.

He didn't want Sam to feel that he was dominated by him. He didn't want him to feel like he had to do THIS. Dean wanted him to have a choice, to stop it if it wasn't okay with him anymore.

The wolfman wrapped an arm around Sam's lower back and one around his shoulders and guided him up. While he tugged his own legs into a cross-legged position, he pulled Sam into his lap, so that the human's erection was pressed snug between their bodies.

Dean sank his tongue into Sam's mouth, cupping his head with one hand, while he held him on his lower back, feeling his slicked up length slipping in between Sam's globes.

The wolfman erupted in a full-body-shiver as he felt Sam's heat against his arousal, closing his eyes for a moment.

Sam then lifted himself up a little and lined Dean's manhood up against his entrance and sank down on it – ever so slowly.

The human panted with the newly feeling of being penetrated by something way bigger as three fingers. He held himself there – with just the head of Dean's arousal inside him, giving himself time.

Dean held onto Sam, FEELING him. Warm and tight and being on the verge of INSIDE him. A low growl tore from the wolfman's throat as Sam took an inch at a time. So achingly slow and carefully not to hurt or to get hurt.

When he was fully seated in Dean's lap and the other man's length buried to the base inside him, Dean's lips found the human's again.

They didn't move. Not at all. Just their mouth and tongues dancing to their heartbeats.

Then Sam started to move – slow and little circles with his hips, feeling Dean deep inside him. Feeling how he fit – as they were made for each other.

Dean didn't dare to move. Didn't dare to open his eyes for a moment, afraid Sam wouldn't be there if he'd do. That it had just been imagination, just a wonderful dream damned to end.

_But it wasn't._

When he opened his eyes Sam was still there, his manhood still buried to the hilt in Sam's hole, feeling the warm pleasure that spread through his abdomen when Sam moved.

Sam wrapped his arms around Dean's neck, holding onto him as he lifted himself up and sank back down, impaling himself on his mate's arousal, punching out strangled gasps, silent whines and low rumbles from Dean with every down-stride.

Dean shifted a little bit, holding Sam by his flanks, guiding every movement of him.

Sam wrapped the fingers of his left hand around Dean's neck as he let himself sink back, bracing his other hand into the mattress, before the other one arm followed. Dean held him firmly by his flanks, pushing himself up and down on the mattress, finding the right rhythm. A small change in his angle. _And that was it._

The new angle drew aroused whimpers and soft cries out of Sam, as Dean's hardness hit the tender soft bundle of nerves deep inside his mate. Soon Dean increased his pace, punching the most amazing sounds out of the human, as he bounced into him.

There were no words left, nothing that was left behind unspoken. Everything between the two of them seemed to melt, they became one, became what they were meant to be.

Dean pulled Sam back up against his chest, wrapping his strong arms around him. - Holding him tight. Holding onto him for dear life as he toppled over the edge with a low animal-like growl, pumping into his mate, filling him up. Two hard strides later and Sam followed his example, holding onto his wolf, throwing his head back in a silent stunned cry.

His eyes rolling back in his head, his mouth agape, his muscles constricting and relaxing until there was no fluid left inside of him. Plastering his and Dean's stomach and chest with white pearls of come.

Sam tightened his hold around Dean, feeling his mate softening inside him.

The wolfman was panting, trying to regain control over his limps, _hell_ , over his whole body. He held Sam close – so close – not wanting to let go. He buried his head in the curve of Sam's neck, closing his eyes, letting the feeling of finally being _one_ WITH his mate – WITH Sam - sinking in. Listening to the human's racing heart, wich slowly calmed down again.

There were no words ... NO WORDS to describe what it felt like. It felt like arriving in paradise, like coming home from a long journey. That was how Dean felt like – that was what the wolf deep inside him felt. - _And so much more ..._

They stayed like that for some time, before Dean shifted, one hand braced in between Sam's shoulder-blades and one on his lower back, laying him down slowly. Dean slipped out under him, earning a disapproving moan, and laid alongside his human mate.

Sam turned his face towards him, giving him a small tired smile. Dean smiled back at him, brushing over his right cheek and his throat, letting it rest there. He watched Sam for a long time, drinking in the sight of his gorgeous mate – all naked, all spent ... ALL HIS.

The wolfman grabbed the tissues he had placed on the nightstand before and wiped them both clean. Sam then curled up with a comfortable moan, nestling into Dean's chest, rubbing his nose against him. His mate pulled the messed up comforter over the both of them before he wrapped his arms around Sam and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead.

They lay there – awake. Just feeling each other, being close.

After a long while – snow had started to fall again – Dean shifted a bit and tilted his head back so he was able to look at – at least – the messed up mop of hair beneath him. A flash of concern crossing his face as Sam winced, as he threw his right leg over Dean's calf.

"Did I ..." Dean ran his fingers through Sam's hair. "Did I hurt you?"

Sam tilted his head back, giving him one of the cutest smiles ever. "No.", he breathed, "It felt ... like coming home ..." He nuzzled back into Dean's chest, closing his eyes. "It was perfect."

Dean blew out a relieved breath and closed his eyes, resting his chin on Sam's head. "You're not hurting?"

Sam shook his head, inching closer to his mate (if even possible). "Tired."

The wolf chuckled.

Then they fell silent again. Just silence and the warmth of two bodies/souls bound to each other as they fell asleep.

* * *

Sheriff Jody Mills leaned over her desk, her nose buried in police records. A short glance at the window told her that she had been at the station way too long again. - And that it was snowing. Big flakes of white frozen crystals sinking down from high above.

With a sigh, she pinched the bridge of her nose and rubbed over her tired eyes. Her deputies had already changed and the night shift had taken charge by now.

And still ... she wasn't sure whom of them she was able to trust – ever since they found the former club-owner's scout among her people. She had never thought that a shifter would be able to fool her like that. She had always thought, that ever since she had found out what the Salvage was (a pack's lair) and who JOHN WINCHESTER was ... that no supernatural being was able to get to come close to her without knowing.

She had been wrong. - _So wrong._

And now she had a human at the salvage she should've been reporting to HER bosses. That a vanished boy had been found. That Samuel Campbell wasn't dead.

And she couldn't.

She knew Samuel would be in ultimate danger if she did so – if reporters and desk men would find out about him – about their town, about what had gone down there ... About the Salvage and the wolves.

She knew that the priorities would like to get a hold of the young man then. That they probably would want him to be taken to a hospital and to psychologists. They would want to know his story. And she also knew that Samuel couldn't tell them. Wasn't allowed to tell them.

Another thing was, that she couldn't take him away from the Salvage – _from Dean_. John had told her so much ... had told her everything.

Maybe when this all was over ... when Samuel was doing better, when he was settled and when they were able to make up a believable story for her bosses. Then – and just then they'd go down that road.

A loud rumble tore the sheriff from her thoughts.

The men outside her office tensed visibly, all their faces snapping towards the entrance of their police-station at once. A split second later, the door burst open and a giant wolf stood in the middle of the room.

Not a wolf Jody Mills would've known ...

… _... to be continued_

* * *


	7. Chapter 7

  
  


** Of Werewolves And Humans **

** Chapter 24 ~ Visions **

THEN (for those who skipped the last chapter):

_A loud rumble tore the sheriff from her thoughts._

_The men outside her office tensed visibly, all their faces snapping towards the entrance of their police-station at once. A split second later, the door burst open and a giant wolf stood in the middle of the room._

_Not a wolf Jody Mills would've known …_

* * *

NOW:

The morning came way too early, with way more snow than there should've been.

When Sam woke, he was alone in their bed, under the comforter. He noticed two more blankets tugged over him to keep him warm. Dean was looking out for him – like he always did. Like he was something precious. And maybe … just maybe he was something precious – at least to his mate.

Sam stretched and groaned comfortably, his toes standing out under the layers as he did so. He pulled them back under the bedding as he felt the chilly air against his skin and drove a shudder up his spine.

He blinked his eyes open, looking around the room. Somehow he had thought Dean would be with him, would be at least somewhere close … but he wasn't.

The beginning of a slight headache behind his forehead made itself noticeable.

Sam was all on his own. He thought for a moment if he should get up … but then again … he felt somehow sore. But not the bad meaning of sore … it was more the good kind of feeling sore – _where_ he felt sore.

The human smiled gingerly at the fact that he actually had done what he had been afraid of.

He rubbed his temples and blinked a couple of times, before he pulled his hands back under the warmth of the comforter.

His smile widened as he thought about last night. His eyes fluttered shut again as he curled up, wrapping his arms around his middle to keep his cooling skin warm.

The temperature had dropped during the night. The upper floor was way cooler than the first one, where the charcoals held on until the early morning.

So Sam tugged the comforter up over his shoulders, so that just the mop of hair was lurking out beneath it, snuggling into the warm pillow and mattress, waiting for Dean to come back.

Because he wouldn't go away – not after last night, would he? They were bound, they were meant to be with each other – _right_? Except Dean didn't want anymore. Except he had done something wrong last night and Dean had decided that a human wasn't what he wanted to have as a mate.

But then again – Dean didn't have another choice, did he? He didn't want anyone else.

Sam shoved his disturbing thoughts aside. He KNEW Dean wasn't like this. He would have felt it … and still, there was this tiny voice nagging at him in his mind. A voice that still dared to tell him that this wasn't right, that he was a burden, that he didn't deserve any of this.

A voice that was very tiny and barely hearable anymore – but though it was there, and telling him what a spoiled brat he was every time he tried to make his own decisions, when he said what he liked and didn't like.

The door to their room opened carefully and Sam's eyes snapped open, tearing him away form his thoughts, from the voice that fell silent all of a sudden.

Bare feet tabbed over the hard-wood-floor towards the bed, metal was clanking against crockery.

Sam pulled the comforter back – just a little bit and propped himself up on an elbow, looking sleepily at HIS mate.

„Good Morning.", Sam muttered and sniffed, sinking back into the pillow.

Dean smiled – he BEAMED at him, a tray in his hands, already dressed in jeans and a plaid shirt. „Hey, Sweetheart.", he said softly and sat down on the edge of the bed. „Got us some breakfast."

Sam smiled back at him dreamily and scooted back, so he was leaning against the headboard with his back, eying the rich breakfast on the tray.

Dean took his place beside him, slipping under the comforter as he did so and positioned the tray on his lap. He then leaned over to Sam and placed a gentle kiss on his temple. Sam rested his head on Dean's shoulder and made a happy sound.

„When did you get up?", Sam asked, watching his mate as he put whip-cream on the side of the plate with the waffles.

Dean licked the cream from his fingertips and glanced at Sam. „A hour.", he answered and placed the plate in Sam's lap. „You didn't wake up during the night ..."

Sam nodded, while he watched Dean taking a stripe of bacon and pulled it through the ketchup.

They ate in silence. Sam kept leaning against the other male's side as he ripped pieces from the waffles and put them through the cream before he stuffed them into his mouth.

They ate in slow and in silence. Dean sneaking pieces of waffles from Sam's plate, and Sam stealing bacon from Dean's.

When they had emptied their coffees and had eaten their breakfast, Dean put the plates and the tray aside and laid an arm around Sam's shoulder, tugging him close. Sam snuggled into him, wrapping an arm around his mate's middle and closed his eyes again.

„I'd like to stay like this.", Sam whispered huskily. „All day … all night …"

Dean chuckled and closed his eyes for a moment, letting Sam's words sink in. „Me too.", he answered after a while. „I'd love to keep you naked all day and all night … for a whole week."

„That's not what I meant." Sam blinked up at him with a shy smile.

„I know." His mate looked him in the eyes. „I said it … but … you know, it's not like I meant it to come out."

They stayed like this for a long while.

Dean cleared his throat, his look growing sad and somehow concerned.

„Sam ...", he started then, deciding that it was about time to tell him, filling him in on what was going on, what happened during the last night while they had slept …

Sam looked up, the sound of how Dean had said his name making him feel uneasy.

„Sheriff Mills is here …", he said then, locking his gaze with Sam's.

His mate sat up and frowned at him worriedly. „What happened?" He instantly KNEW that something had happened. Not just because the sheriff was here, also because he FELT Dean's concern, the worry radiating from him in waves that seemed to make the air thick and heavy.

„She got away … when they raided the police station in town." Dean sighed heavily. „Most of her deputies are dead or got bitten. - Those who weren't at the station got attacked at home …"

Sam attempted to draw back from him, but his mate wouldn't let him. He held him tight. Dean didn't have to tell his mate what they wanted. Sam _knew_. This had been just a warning …

„They want me." The human's eyes went dull and empty.

Dean shook his head. „They want the both of us ..."

As Sam made an attempt to speak up, Dean hushed him. „But they won't get either one of us. - Me and the others … we'll head out – we'll take care of them before they can do any more damage, Sam." His words sounded so reassuring, as if there was no doubt that they'd do just that – like taking a walk or something …

Sam closed his eyes, a long drawn shuddering breath leaving his mouth. „It's dangerous, isn't it? - Maybe we can trade? Maybe they'll be satisfied if they get just me? If there's no trap, no anything? - Maybe they'll go away, huh?"

„No way, Sam." He pulled Sam's head towards his chest, holding him there. „We won't trade. We won't cooperate with them. We've decided. - Everyone of us is in." He cleared his throat. „Besides they want the both of us. They left no doubt in _that_."

Tears started to fill Sam's eyes and he closed them. He didn't want to cry, didn't want to look like a girl. Didn't want Dean to see …

„I'll be back, you know that, right?", Dean asked, trying to hold his own emotions down. „They've no chance against us. - And when I'm back .. .we'll do THIS." He looked around and petted on the bed beside him. „We'll stay in here for a whole week streight. Just leaving for gettin' food and to the bathroom. - We'll do whatever you want us to do then." He smiled.

Sam sniffed and nodded. „When are you heading out?"

„In a couple of hours. - Ellen's gonna stay with you.", he explained calmly as if it was no big deal to blow up another pack from whom they didn't even know how many there were … „I want you to stay IN the house until we're back. Neither of you is going out there – no matter what you might see, or hear." Dean's features were serious – too serious.

Sam nodded again, understanding WHY Dean needed to be sure that Sam was okay, that he was safe and wouldn't do something stupid.

„Promise.", he whispered, laying his hand beside his head against Dean's chest.

Though Sam couldn't shake off the feeling that something wasn't right about it – something didn't fit and it made him feel uneasy. Maybe it wasn't as easy as Dean wanted him to believe …

* * *

An hour later, Sam was dressed and in the kitchen with John. The human was silent and pensive …

His headache had increased ever since he had gotten up. Not even a hot shower had helped any with it.

„It's going to be okay, Sam.", John said casually, switching on the coffee-machine.

„Dean said the same thing …", he gave back, sounding unconvinced. Sam's lips formed into a tight line. „I'm just … I don't know … Something's not right ..."

John looked up, cocking an eyebrow at his son's mate. „What do you mean?"

„It doesn't FEEL right ...", Sam corrected himself. „It's like ..." He rubbed his right temple. „Something's off about it ..."

John frowned now and turned around, watching Sam closely. Something on the older Winchester's features changed slightly. As if Sam's words – what he had just said – had more weight than he admitted to himself.

John leaned against the counter and crossed his arms before his chest, his eyebrows furrowing. „You alright?"

Sam nodded. „Just a headache ..."

John eyed Sam for another moment before he turned back around, getting a mug from the cupboard.

„We got this. - It'll be over before anyone's able to snatch a glance."

„Yeah – sure ..." Sam smiled faintly.

* * *

John Winchester joined the rest of the pack and the sheriff in the living-room, while he left Sam behind in the kitchen. Now that Sam seemed to be a bit out of it … and the things that he had said … that it FELT off … John couldn't put his finger on it yet and though he sensed that something was lingering in the air – something that was not good at all …

There was a paper with a sketch of the farm on Bobby's table, showing the surroundings and the buildings themself.

Everyone was staring at it – no one was talking.

John cleared his throat and caught Dean's gaze over the table, then he looked at the map and brushed over his mouth, blowing out a tense breath.

Maybe something WAS wrong about this.

* * *

Sam stood on the porch beside Ellen. He wrapped his arms around his mate, holding him tight.

„Love you.", he whispered into Dean's ear, „Come back in one piece."

Dean chuckled and hugged him back. „Love you too, Sweetheart.", he whispered, closing his eyes for a brief second, sucking in a deep breath of Sam's scent. „And don't leave the house.", he added a bit louder.

Sam gave him a short nod as their gazes met. Dean laid his hand on Sam's cool cheek and smiled up at him gingerly before he placed a feather-light lingering kiss on his lips.

Not a kiss of good-bye. More of a kiss like _i'll-be-back-in-no-time_.

Sam watched _his_ pack taking their seats on the bed of the truck. Watched Dean watching him as the vehicle drove off roaring.

He stood there for another while before he got back inside the house with Ellen, vanishing in the living-room where he took his stand on the couch, rubbing once again his aching temples.

He wished he would've been able to go with them. But Sam knew that there was no use of him on a battlefield. That this was a fight between packs and that a human would just get in the way.

* * *

Time went by slowly.

Ellen had brought Sam coke and coffee. She sat in the recliner – at least as tense as Sam was – and was waiting for their pack's return.

They didn't talk.

Sam stared out of the window ever since, his head resting on the backrest of the couch, cool winter-light caught in his hazel-green circles, turning them into something gleaming and sparkling.

He soon drifted off to sleep after two Tylenol, hoping that the meds would help with his throbbing pain roaring through his skull.

* * *

It was already dark outside. No snow was falling anymore. Sam had slept for hours on the couch. A restless sleep, filled with a never-ending nightmare. One dream Sam'd never forget …

_First everything was dark and so close. He couldn't see anything. He just FELT. Felt the darkness, the lingering moist air filled with death and despair and panic. Rotten meat and wood. Sam wasn't able to turn on either side of his wooden grave. Then there were flashes of pictures. Blood and screams and pained yelps. His pack and the others. Humans with silvery gleaming knifes. The sheriff._

_He was in a kind of barn. Hay and litter splattered all over the floor. Hay and litter stained with blood._

_One moment he was bound on his ankles and wrists, lying on the dirty floor. Then shots rang out. The next second he was on all fours, kneeling in blood. Red and sticky and clinging to his dirty palms as he crawled over the loosen ground. He felt the pain of a thousand deaths as his gaze swept around._

_There was Dean. - Laying motionless on the floor. His eyes wide open, staring into nothingness. One of his arms resting beside him, and the other one slung around his middle – limply._

_There was so much blood and dirt … Sam wasn't able to make out if it was his mate's blood or someone else's._

_He was just an arm reach away from him. From Dean. But he felt it – he knew it …_

_The younger Winchester's face was pale – too pale. His eyes were empty. His skin cold to the touch._

_Sam's vision blurred, as he felt the weakness crawl up his limbs and towards his neck._

_There was so much blood. So much blood._

_Sam sank down onto the dirty ground beside his mate, laying his hand on Dean's cheek ever so gently. He swallowed down a sob, as he stared into blank emerald-green eyes. His heart tore apart, shattered and broke into pieces. His soul felt like it got ripped apart._

_Dean wasn't breathing. Dark strands marked the veins beneath his tender skin, showing where it had pumped the dangerous poison through his body._

_Sam knew it … he just knew it …_

_Dean was dead._

Sam jack-knifed into a sitting position, panting, a thin sheen of sweat covering his forehead. He looked around. Stared at his open palms, into his lap and then he looked around once more. As if to make sure that it had just been a dream – a very _vivid_ dream.

He swallowed hard, trying to calm himself down. Trying to free himself from the fine tendrils of his disturbing nightmare.

* * *

Somewhere in the woods, close to the farm two packs of wolves were fighting in the darkness. They have been waiting for Dean and the others.

It had been a trap. _It had been a trap._

Caleb was dead. Thomas nowhere to be found. The rest fought for dear life right there. Bloodied and with bruised egos.

Dean knew they NEEDED to get back to the Salvage.

_It had been a trap …_

* * *

Sam sat on the couch. The coffee was cold, the coke warm. He hadn't touched anything. Not even the offered sandwiches Ellen had prepared for him.

So he sat there and waited. Until dusk broke over the land. Until it was too dark to see anything on the yard anymore.

Though he waited for a pair of headlights, the familiar roar of the old pick-up-truck.

Ellen was in the bathroom when it happened and was about done with whatever she had been doing in there.

Heavy footfalls on the porch, a creak from one of the loosen floorboards, the familiar squeak of the door-handle.

Sam was on his feet in an instant, rushing into the hall.

The front door to Bobby's house opened slowly. And a – in dirt and blood covered – Dean Winchester appeared, panting and utterly terribly looking.

A bright smile lit up on Sam's face, but faded very fast again, as no one else would come through the door. As he realized Dean's state … as he saw the blood, the dirt …

Big green emerald-eyes caught his. - And something was off about those eyes …

Anyways … Sam rushed forward and closed his mate into a tight embrace. Dean returned the hug, blowing a relieved breath out, burying his face in the curve of Sam's neck.

That was when Ellen appeared on the stairs, her eyes widening as she saw Sam and the messed up figure in his arms.

„Sam.", she said in a kind of warning tone, a spike of panic riding its edges.

The human looked up.

So did the man in his arms.

But instead of a friendly smile, or a relieved expression on his face … he wore something more wicked, more dangerous … more WRONG. Just not what he should've looked like. The male glared at her triumphantly. A spark of contempt crossing his face.

Ellen drew in a long breath through her nose, her eyes narrowing, her hand slipping behind her back, reaching for the knife's hilt she wore on her at every time.

Sam instantly sensed a shift in the air. Sensed that the man in his arms was different. That this man … _that he wasn't Dean, was he?_

But the realization hit him too late. - Before he knew it, the man turned the both of them around, shoving Sam aside and a shot rang out. A pained female cry was heard behind Sam.

It was the moment as he tried to break free of the other male's hold on his wrist, where he held him tight now. The moment as he felt a pinch in his back and everything blurred. Within seconds his knees became jello, his mind fuzzy, his body disobedient.

That was when his legs gave out and he hit the floor – hard. When he saw a face hovering over him. Emerald-green eyes that seemed to shift into white silver ones for a moment before everything went dark around him.

… _... to be continued_

* * *

  
  


* * *

** Of Werewolves And Humans **

** Chapter 25 ~ Where We Go When It's All Over **

THEN:

_It was the moment as he tried to break free of the other male's hold on his wrist, where he held him tight now. The moment as he felt a pinch in his back and everything blurred. Within seconds his knees became jello, his mind fuzzy, his body disobedient._

_That was when his legs gave out and he hit the floor – hard. When he saw a face hovering over him. Emerald-green eyes that seemed to shift into white silver ones for a moment before everything went dark around him._

* * *

NOW:

Dean and John burst through the open front-door of Bobby's house. They rapidly scanned their surroundings as they stopped in their tracks in the hall.

The very next moment John took off towards the stairway, locating Ellen's form on the bottom-stairs. A graze on her forehead was bleeding violently. The air was still pregnant with the heavy scent of gun-powder.

Instantly the older Winchester examined the wound and checked the rest of their female pack-member's body over. Gladly there was nothing else than the graze on her forehead. Sadly the graze was from a silver-bullet. There were already forming dark lines under her skin that showed the deadly poison beginning to spread through the wolf's system.

„Silver.", John hissed through gritted teeth. „Bastards."

Dean took a deep inhale, sucking in the scents – familiar and unfamiliar ones. „Shifter.", he muttered angrily.

John cupped the woman's face in his hands, rubbing over her cheekbones gently. It wasn't too late for the antidote yet. They'd be able to save Ellen's life when they'd give it to her right now.

Dean's whole form tensed. His look darted towards the kitchen, the living-room and then to the stairs. The knowledge that Sam wasn't here – wasn't in the house anymore, that he had been taken settled over his mind and heart. It felt like the knowledge wanted to squeeze him to death and rip his heart out at the same death. It felt like he got torn apart and then again, as if he would implode any moment.

It was like the wolf inside of him was about to take control, taking on the track of scents that would lead him out of the house and from the yard into the woods. But _he_ knew better. He needed to hold it together. _For Sam._ He needed to stay focused and cold-blooded. If he'd lose control now, he could possibly make it even worse …

 _They_ had planned this, the leader of the other pack had planned to lurk the pack away from the salvage … to take his mate. To do the same thing to the Winchester, what Dean had done to the alpha.

Dean growled, his look darting towards his father and Ellen on the steps. „Antidote?", he asked growling.

John glanced back over his shoulder, catching the raged look of his son and gave him a short nod. Dean took off towards the basement and came back minutes later with a syringe filled with toxic-green fluid. He handed it to his father and went outside on the porch, sucking in a deep breath, trying to clear his head. But the shifter's and Sam's scent were there. He couldn't shake it off. It was burnt into his nose. The wolf in him tried to figure out in what direction the shifter had disappeared with his mate …

…. „The farm." A low rumble echoed over the yard, warning every single being in a radius of one mile about Dean Winchester's current mental state.

White hot rage and red anger burned deep inside the wolfman. Despair and guilt flamed up inside him about the realization that they had gotten into a trap. That they had done exactly what the other pack had wanted them to do.

They had just occupied them – ever so carefully during their fight not to harm Dean Winchester. Not to come too close to him. Not to be forced to hurt the young wolf. - He had sensed the trap at this point. _He had._ But it had been too late already.

They had wanted Dean Winchester to live – just so he would suffer like their leader had suffered when they killed his wife (mate). Deryl wanted him to feel like he felt – or even worse.

So yeah … they'd kill Sam. - They would make him suffer – because of Dean.

And he couldn't let that happen. He WOULDN'T let that happen. Not to Sam. Not now. Not where they just had sealed their bond. Not after he knew what Sam meant to him and what it'd feel like to lose him. - Just thousands of times worse.

The lights of Bobby's truck appeared in the driveway at the very moment, tearing him away from his dark thoughts.

The rest of what was left of their pack was coming home … just to learn that one of them got injured and one taken while they were away, hunting these bastards down.

The leader of the other pack had finally gotten what he wanted. The only person that was able to confirm what they had done all these years. The mate of the wolf who had killed _his_ mate.

The truck stopped in front of the porch.

Ash was the first one to jump from the bed, followed by a battered Thomas, and a messed up Bobby Singer emerged from the driver's seat. The three of them instantly sensed that something wasn't right.

Dean alone on the porch. No Ellen, no Sam, no John around him. The pained howl that ripped from the youngest wolf's throat in an attempt to release all the emotions at ones echoed through the coldest of nights.

* * *

Realization hit her before she was even able to claw her way fully into consciousness. Somewhere between here and there she sensed the distress of her pack. She sensed the scents of fear, desperation, anger and grief.

When her eye-lids flew open, she noticed that she wasn't all on her own. Bobby was sitting beside her bed, staring out of the window.

„Sam ...", she muttered hoarsely.

That was when a searing pain ripped through her skull and she squeezed her eyes shut for a long moment.

Bobby looked up, a mix of worry and sorrow on his face.

„Go slow.", he said calmly and sat up in his chair, eying the woman closely. „How are you feeling?"

Ellen gave an embarrassed chuckle. „Like shit."

The older man gave her a remorseful look. „No wonder … the silver did a thing on you, old lady."

Ellen let out a snort as she opened her eyes again, looking at the old man. „You're way older than me, hon." She then propped herself up on an elbow and slid her legs out of the bed, shaking her head slightly. „They have him ...", she said then, with a groan, „They have a message for his mate ..."

Bobby frowned deeply. „What message do they have for him?"

* * *

Ellen walked gingerly down the stairs, flanked by Bobby, who held her elbow in an attempt to stabilize her swaying walk until they reached the bottom-stairs.

As they got into the kitchen, all eyes were on them. Dean rose from his chair, dark circles under his red-rimmed eyes searching her face.

She couldn't look him in the eyes at first. Sam had been her responsibility. Dean had counted on her that she'd take care of him. That she'd look out for his mate. That she'd protect the human and she had failed. - Had failed so miserably, it hurt.

„What is it?", his voice broke mid-sentence.

Ellen cast her look down once more. „They want you to be at the farm at noon. Alone …"

Dean sniffed, rubbing over his face. A short glance at the watch above the kitchen-table and then he looked back at the woman, once again close to cry … „Noon ...", he muttered to himself.

„He said they'll leave it up to you … You can come and try to save your mate, or you can stay away and leave him hanging while he dies … alone." She closed her eyes for a moment. „I'm so sorry.", she choked out, „So sorry, Dean. - I'm so sorry … I should've watched out for him … you left him to me … and I didn't …"

„No one knew.", Dean said, his face blank, his look empty, his hands shaking. The younger Winchester glanced at the watch again. Five hours to go … five hours in whom he wasn't THERE with his mate. In whom _they_ could do horrible things to him. And he knew they would – he just knew. They had done it before – they had taken everything from Sam …

If Sam'd die. Then they both'd die. - There was no way he'd be able to carry on … _no way._

„We've still time.", Bobby said warily – eying their youngest pack-member. „We can figure something out -"

„No.", Dean said firmly. „They're gonna kill him if we try _something_ …"

All looks were on him.

Ellen was swallowing a silent sob.

„It's a trap and you know it. - Deryl wants you to watch when he kills your mate. He wants to make it worse for you as it was for him ...", John threw in quietly. „In the end you both will be dead … you'll let Deryl win."

Dean shot his father a glare. „I don't care. - As long as there's a chance I'll take it … I won't let those bastards torture him all over again." With that Dean left the room, the house, strolling along on the yard, trying to clear his thoughts. He knew it was a trap. They'd kill them both if he'd go there. - And he honestly didn't care as long as they'd be together. _In life or in death …_

They'd kill Sam first, would make him bleed for being what he was … Dean Winchester's mate.

He couldn't let Sam go like this. He couldn't let him go without letting him know that he loved him. That there'd be another better place waiting for the both of them – where they hopefully would be united again.

 _On the other side_ there was the wolf – the fighter – the soldier – the leader. The one who wouldn't accept the other wolf's ultimatum. The one who didn't give in that easy. The one who was looking for an expedient, where he and Sam would stay alive and together.

_He had to find the middle course …_

* * *

There were still three hours to go until noon, when Dean got back into the house. His posture and look showed definite determination. The fire of the wolf gleaming in his eyes, his whole nature seemed cool on the outside, hiding the burning rage in his inside.

John slammed his phone shut as he sensed his son's return.

„You have a plan?", Dean asked his father as he went into the kitchen, well knowing that he must've had talked to the sheriff in the meantime.

An unmistakable Winchester-grin formed on his dad's lips, his eyes glistening slyly. „I do have – in fact – a plan."

* * *

It was dark. _So dark._

The air was heavy and thick.

It smelled like rotten meat and wood.

The surface was damp and cold beneath him.

His head was heavy and his mind fuzzy. His vision blurred and was sort of a misty white on its edges.

Sam tried to sit up, but bumped his head on something that sounded wooden above him. He lowered his head back down on the hard surface, blinking his eyes open. He was surrounded by complete darkness and for a moment he wondered if he was blind, if there even was something that could be seen.

He ever so slowly raised his hand over his head, feeling along the surface just inches above him. He traced with his fingers over something hard and … it felt like wooden panells. He stretched his legs out, just to find out that the place where he was, was slightly smaller than he himself. Then he reached to his left and right. There were just a couple of inches in between his shoulders and the wood there.

Sam sucked in a shuddering breath, tracing with his fingertips all over the walls around him – _where he was able to reach them._

A hint of panic settled over him. It was too small – too tight to even turn on his side or shift in his position. It was too similar to what he had seen and felt before … _in his worst of nightmares._

He was caught and locked down in some kind of casket. A wooden grave …

His breath hitched and he closed his eyes for a moment, trying to hold the rising panic at bay, trying to stay calm. There was no use to freak out anyway. He WAS in there … and whatever they would do with him (to him) … it wouldn't last. Sam soon found reassurance that this _wouldn't last_.

Dean – HIS Dean – would get him out of there. He'd look for him …

Flashes of his nightmare flooded his mind, letting his body shudder from the promises his dream held.

„ _No, no no_.", Sam muttered to himself.

He didn't want Dean to come. „ _No_.", Sam said out louder, angrier. He prayed. He prayed that he wouldn't. His mate would die if he'd come to save him.

* * *

Dean sat behind the wheel of his beloved Impala. Staring out of the windshield towards the farm, just a couple of miles away now.

He sucked in a deep breath, held it, and blew it out again. He pulled the keys from the ignition and stuffed them into the right pocket of his jeans. Then he looked at the passenger's seat and back out of the wind-shield.

When they'd drive back home, Sam'd be with him. He would be breathing and alive and just fine, flashing his dimples at him, giving him the most adorable smile he had ever seen. He'd be holding the human's warm hand, would squeeze it gently. Would tell him that it was all over and that they'd be save from now on. Dean would tell him how desperate he had been, how much he missed him. He'd squeeze his hand and seal his lips over his mate's, showing him how much he loved him …

The younger Winchester sucked his lower lip in and bit down on it. HARD. „I'll go and get you, Babe.", he whispered to himself, „WE'll get you back."

And with that he left the car behind, taking off for his walk across the snow-covered soil towards his destination.

* * *

What had felt like an eternity later, he finally reached the porch of the main-house. Two men stood before the front-door, guarding it on either side. Both didn't move for a brief moment and just stared at him.

„I'm here.", Dean said, standing at the foot of the porch, staring daggers at them. „I've an appointment with your leader."

One of the men, a giant guy – with the reek of wet dog on him – stepped forward and opened the door. Dean went up the porch, glancing at the man as he passed him.

He felt a pinch in his neck and a short burn … and that's had been all to take Dean down in a matter of seconds.

* * *

The first thing he felt were his bindings … that he was unable to move.

The second thing was searing pain lancing through his skull as he blinked his eyes open, staring down at his denim-covered thighs. He struggled slightly and his head snapped up at the scent of wolves and shifters … and SAM.

The very next moment he felt cool metal against his temple – the barrel of a gun most likely. He could smell the faint scent of silver lingering in the air.

„There you go.", he heard an unfamiliar voice beside him. „Someone's joining us …" A mischievous chuckle followed.

Dean groaned, smacking his dry lips. Thinking about a cocky response … but there was non he could utter right now.

 _Sam …_ was the only thing he could think about ... _Get Sam out of here._

So far so good. He wasn't dead … _yet_. What meant there was still a chance to get out, get to Sam … but for now he had to stay put. Had to let the others do the work. He was just the one who had to draw it out a little bit. The one who had to play along as long as possible. - As long as the others would need.

„Fuck you.", Dean hissed glaring at the man beside him. - Who definitely had to be the alpha of this pack. His scent alone … the strong presence of being a leader that surrounded him …

Deryl chuckled and cocked the gun in his hand, letting it sink slowly to his side, his finger lingering upon the trigger nonetheless. His deep blue eyes were cool and composed, so was his whole body language. But on the inside he was boiling. Dean could tell – it smelled like rage and blind hate … _and Sam_. Sam's scent was all over this man, as if ….

His eyes widened at the realization. „You damn bastard.", he hissed, the emerald color of his circles turning into green liquid fire.

The Winchester's muscles in his yaw and neck worked, as his gaze swept through the room. It was a barn and he was tied to a chair. - His hands fastened on the back-lean of it, his ankles bound to its legs.

He could've ripped the thing apart in an instant. - But then … what would they do to Sam if he dared? He wasn't in the room – at least he was out of his sight at the moment … and Deryl knew that these bindings wouldn't hold him … he probably counted on Dean's fear to lose his mate.

Deryl made a round around the chair, glancing at his precious captive. „You took my mate down.", he said, his firy temper boiling beneath the cool surface of his skin. „You let her bleed out …"  
Dean followed the man with his gaze as he passed, a cold shiver running down his spine as he vanished out of sight behind him to come back around on the other one again.

„YOU took her from me ..." The alpha stated matter-of-factly.  
„She tried to kill what's mine.", Dean hissed, trying to hold his own emotions at bay – at least for the moment. He needed to keep a cool head. Needed to stay focused.

„Well … I'd say first you took HIM from me and MADE him yours. He had been also mine – I bought him fair and square. Sharon just went out to get HIM back." Deryl's lips formed into a thin line, his features still hard and unreadable. „But that's not WHY you're here, _Winchester_. You're here because you murdered my other half. You're here to endure what it feels like, when the one you love gets ripped away from you."

Dean glared at him. „You leave him alone, bitch. - Or I swear ..."

Deryl chuckled and cocked an eyebrow. „You swear what? - You make a move on me and my men are going to rip your little human whore apart before you can try anything.", he hissed into Dean's ear. He straightened again and increased his pace as he walked around the chair again. „I wanted to offer you the chance of watching your mate die. At least he wouldn't be as alone as Sharon had been. Wasn't she? - And when I'm done you're a free little pup again. - _I promise_.", he said louder, but his voice remained somehow soft and gentle as if he wanted to caress Dean's ears. „You can try to kill me, you can follow your mate into death – whatever ..."

Dean huffed a curse. „Where's he?"

Deryl chuckled. „Awww … I figured we could draw this out a little bit."

Dean gave a disapproving snarl.

„You know – before I get little Sammy in here – I wanted you to know how GOOD he _feels_ ..." Deryl laid his flat palm over the zipper of his jeans making a guttural sound, as he stopped before his captive. A cocky grin forming on his lips – the first emotion he shared with the younger Winchester ever since he had woken up.

Obviously enjoying to see Dean squirming in his bindings, seeing him boil without being able to do anything about it. He then shook his head and pursed his lips. „Nah … we don't want to rip the ropes, do we?" He smacked his lips, his tongue running over his lower lip. „You know what? - Do it. Then my men will come in here, nail you down on the floor and you can watch me and your mate making out a little bit." He gave an amused lough. „Wouldn't that be a show? Me taking him? In front of you? Making him _MINE_." The last word was a mix of a snarl and a hiss.

Dean growled, his lips curling down in disgust, his eyes flaring up with red hot anger. „Don't you dare touch him ...", he hissed through gritted teeth. „Lets solve this like wolves, not like cowards."

„Well … we're solving this like wolves, Winchester. _An eye for an eye_." Deryl sighed. „Well … it's nice to see you caring. - I'll say we'll get on with the show then." He singsang and rolled his eyes. „Guess we've to leave as soon as I'm done here anyway … We need to get the business back on track. - Have to stuck up on whores and such … "

„Got an appointment?", Dean asked cockily.

„Non of your business, pup. - Sit tight and I'll make it as quick as possible.", he stated and waved with his hand in the air.

Upon his command, a man and a woman appeared, dragging a half-conscious Sam in between them.

„Well … there you go ...", Deryl explained clinically. „I thought about … letting you watch as he bleeds out in front of you. - But then again … I figured that'd be a little _too fast_."

The man and the woman stopped in their tracks, still holding Sam under his armpits. His legs seemed weak and wobbly and as if they weren't able to hold his weight at the moment.

„Sam!", Dean called out, eying his mate's form closely.

The human tilted his head up, searching his surroundings with an unfocused gaze. His right cheekbone was swollen and badly bruised.

Trying to hold onto the voice Sam had just heard, his eyebrows narrowed. And he ever so badly wished he hadn't.

He wished Dean hadn't come … didn't get himself in danger for him – _again_.

Deryl walked over in front of the human, placing himself in between Sam and Dean so they wouldn't be able to see each other. He then buried his fingers in Sam's hair and fisted it violently, pulling his head back.

Sam winced and squeezed his eyes shut at the sudden movement.

Deryl made a step aside and glanced at the captured wolf. Showing himself with his captive's mate.

„I thought I could turn him ...", Deryl cocked an eyebrow upon the Winchester, then looked back at Sam. „Making him one of us … But then again … he wouldn't be the same again, would he?"

„ **I** killed your mate.", Dean hissed. „I ripped her throat out, not he." He locked his gaze with Sam's, who had finally managed to focus enough to recognize DEAN. „He's got nothing to do with it. - _Please_ … you have me, let him go ...", by now Dean sounded close to begging.

Deryl gave him a short chuckle and shook his head. „I'm gonna tell you what i'll do. I'm gonna hurt him until you can't take it anymore. Until you want to release him by yourself from his pitiful life. - I suppose that's just fair, isn't it? At least you've a choice – A choice **I** didn't have ..."

„You're one sick bastard!", Dean yelled, „Your wife was a psychopath! That's why she's dead! She didn't deserve anything else." He panted, his look darting between Deryl and his mate, his features screwed up in fury.

Sam watched the Winchester fearfully, shaking his head, telling him not to provoke him.

But it was already too late. Deryl lunged out and slapped Sam across the face with the back of his hand, leaving an angry red mark on his left cheek.

Sam had feared he'd go for his mate – for Dean. That he'd hurt or even kill him … then again Sam knew that the alpha hurt Dean when he'd hurt him … this way or another he stood on lost ground. At least Sam'd know that the love of his life wouldn't have to die – would still have a chance to escape even if HE couldn't.

„Don't you dare and talk like that about Sharon. - Humans don't deserve better. They're no bit better than us. THEY'RE WORSE.", Deryl hissed, glaring at the younger Winchester. He cleared his throat in an attempt to calm himself down. „I'm gonna make your whore bleed for me." With that he landed a hit with his fist in Sam's stomach, who tried to suck in a breath, that came out as a long-drawn wheeze.

Dean struggled against his bindings for a moment. Reminding himself to stay put. That the others would come any moment. That it couldn't be much longer now. They just had to hold on. _Sam had to hold on._

„I'll end what you couldn't, right Sammy?" Deryl chuckled scornfully and shot a glance at Dean. „If you would've killed yourself … all of this wouldn't have happened, right? - Your mate wouldn't be here, you wouldn't be here. His pack wouldn't have lost one of their family …"

Sam's head lolled forward against his chest as Deryl let go of his hair and Sam rose his face a little bit to meet his mate's gaze over the distance. _They had lost someone?_ was the first question that formed in his head.

Sam swallowed thickly, trying to hold the rising bile down.

Dean's look told him to hold on, to not let that bastard win. He told him so many things just his mate was able to understand with a single look.

Deryl gave a wave with his hand and the two beings let go of Sam, letting him crumble to the floor.

„On your knees." The alpha pointed with the gun's barrel at Sam's head.

But Sam couldn't, wasn't even able to understand a word at the moment.

„On your knees.", Deryl hissed and bowed forward, to grab Sam's hair again with his free hand and pulled him up on his knees. He then looked at the two who had brought the human in. „Cut his ropes.", he ordered calmer.

When they were done, Sam brought his hands before him, rubbing his wrists, where the ropes had dug into his skin. Deryl yanked the human's head back, locking his gaze with him.

„You know what to do.", Deryl said – just loud enough so Sam was able to hear it. „Or Dean's the one who pays for your disobedience."

The human swallowed, tears gleaming in his eyes, as he sneaked a glance at his mate. His look telling Dean to forgive him for what he was going to do. Begging him to look away – looking anywhere but them.

Blind panic flared up deep inside Dean and he was about to tear the ropes apart that bound him. As he felt a hand on his left shoulder and one on his right, holding him down.

When Sam laid his shaky hands on the belt of the alpha, Deryl positioned himself so, that Dean would have a good few at the both of them.

Another glance towards his mate and Dean lost it right then. With a single movement he freed himself from his bindings, ripping the wooden chair apart, ready to lung at the bastard who dared to touch his mate.

But Dean didn't come far. Not even an inch, as he got yanked back on the ground and then hands were on him, pushing him into the dirty ground. Someone grabbed his head and turned him forcefully to the side, so he was looking back at the alpha and his mate.

„You just made it even worse for him." Deryl chuckled and twisted his fist in Sam's hair tighter, making him wince.

* * *

The farm was cornered by dozens of people. Every single one of them armed to the teeth with rock-salt, silver-rounds and knifes. All of them were people from town. People who knew Bobby ever since, who knew the Winchesters since they had moved to Sioux Falls.

An ambulance with three paramedics and Ellen was parked in one of the side roads, ready to head out towards the farm when they were called, while John, Bobby, Ash and Thomas silenced the patrolling wolves around the buildings and in the main-house.

* * *

_In one of the storm-cellars of Sioux Falls …_

Children were crying silently. Because they didn't understand. Didn't know WHY they had to stay there, why the families had to leave their houses behind, had to take off without preparation. They didn't know why it was so important to stay calm, stay silent.

But the grown-ups _knew_. They knew it wasn't because of a storm, that it wasn't because of thunder and lightning and wind. It was because the wolves had them told it'd be saver there. Because Bobby had come and told them to hide, while they'd hunt down the other pack.

Men and women tried to hush their kids, tried to keep them occupied with whispered fairy tales while they waited … waited for the end of the _storm_. Waited until the wolves from the Salvage would return and tell them that it was over. That they were allowed to go back home.

And hopefully … hopefully the storm would've been gone by then.

* * *

Tears were running down the younger Winchester's face. As bad as he had tried to hold them back, as bad as he had meant to follow Sam's plea not to look at them … _he couldn't_. He just couldn't leave Sam on his own – not like this. His mate had to know that he was with him, that he wouldn't look away. That he was there for him as good as he even could.

His voice was hoarse from yelling. His body sore from the force of three men pinning him to the ground, letting him face the inexpressible.

„Sammy.", he whispered hoarsely, as he watched the harshly breathing form that lay crumbled in a heap on the dirty ground.

Sam drew his hand into a fist, gathering the dirt and loosen hay in it, trying to hold back the sob that was about to fall from his lips. But he failed. Failed so miserably it hurt.

Indescribable pain lanced through Dean's heart as he watched his mate. As Sam desperately to hold back his body from giving in. He had to watch his trembling other half as he tried to hold back the weeping.

Sam tugged on the waistband of his jeans, trying to desperately pull them back up over his hips.

„Maybe fate isn't that mean at all with you, _Winchester_. - For his time being he was an amazing toy for sure, wasn't he?" Deryl pulled the zipper of his jeans back up and turned to face John's son with an evil glint in his eyes.

„You're gonna rot in hell.", Dean hissed, struggling against the men that lingered over again. „You won't hurt anyone anymore. - Damn bastard!"

By now, the younger Winchester was panting, short raged puffs of air leaving his nostrils and let the dust before his face erupt in small clouds.

Deryl just chuckled, glancing at the human to his feet, who desperately worked on his jeans to get them further up.

No one – specially Dean – should see him like that. He might knew what they had done to him in the past … but this … this was way worse. _So much worse …_

Dean didn't dare to ask Sam if he was okay, no matter how bad he wanted to. He KNEW he couldn't be okay, that he had to be hurting. „Hold on." Dean whispered as he caught Sam's gaze through long bangs of chestnut-brown hair, telling him with a single look that he loved him, that it was going to be okay, that they just had to hold on.

Moments later the barn erupted. The giant double doors to the front burst open and a rumbling and bloodied wolf stood there, blowing out a low snarl.

„Figured you wouldn't come alone ...", Deryl cocked an eyebrow and stared at the – for Dean unfamiliar – wolf. „Well well … I have to say … since you think the town's people are able to get us down … surprise surprise … we're a lot more than you think, Winchester. - While I'm gettin' my revenge down here … a part of my pack is out there, raiding the town and burning it down." He smiled and blew out a satisfied breath through his nose.

Dean snarled at him dangerously, fire burning in his eyes. The fire of pure hate – hate he had never felt before. THIS WOLF would pay for what he had done.

* * *

Bobby led the crowd closer to the barn, where the wolf had disappeared in. He made eye contact with every single one of _his_ _group_ before he started to turn into a grey-haired beast.

* * *

He heard the familiar howl of his father, as the back-door flew open. John, Bobby and Ellen appeared in their wolf-forms and instantly turned towards the ones that were to be taken down closest to them. Sheriff Mills, Ash and Thomas went through the front-door, where Thomas took the wolf down, that had just brought the news about their arrival to his alpha.

A terrible mayhem broke loose then.

There were shots heard from the outside, yells and cries, sometimes yelps and barks.

Sam saw the blood, the hay, the litter, felt the pain flaring through his body. The blood – his own blood.

There was the Sheriff and somewhere he thought he had seen John throwing himself at the alpha … He forced himself to look up.

Sam's heart sped up as he couldn't make out Dean anywhere. Moments before he had been on the ground, three men had lingered over his mate. And now he was _gone_ … Sam's breath caught in his throat. He needed to find Dean, needed to stop whatever was going to happen that'd kill his mate.

He couldn't let it happen – not because of him. He didn't care what'd happen to him as long as Dean'd be alive.

As long as his mate had a chance to survive.

He braced himself up on his palms, blood dripping from his split lip. He forced his body to obey, forced his legs to do what his mind told them. He – again – looked around, trying to make out the beings around him, trying to sort out who had to be a friend and who foe.

He was nearly on his feet, when he felt a cool ring of metal against his neck and he stopped.

„Nah … you're going anywhere.", he heard the snarling words of Deryl beside him.

Sam glanced up at the blue-eyed monster that was almost as tall as he was, glaring at him.

„Drop it!", another – way more familiar – voice was heard from the distance.

A shot and a pained whine in the distance and the barn felt silent a split second later.

There was just the Winchester's pack and Deryl left in the barn, while the ones who tried to flee got taken care off at the outside by the humans.

Deryl was the only one left of his pack. – He was the one who was pointing at Sam with a gun. Dared to threaten him like this even when he knew that he didn't stand a chance if he killed Dean's mate. And maybe … just maybe he didn't want to make it out there alive.

He grinned and chuckled. „I'll shoot him ...", he warned, pulling Sam to his feet and before him, using him as a shield.

Dean swallowed thickly, his gaze locking with Sam's.

Sam shook his head slightly, a silent plea in his look, telling Dean not to dare and lower his gun. Not to dare to let his coverage down.

„I'm sorry.", Dean breathed and let go of the trigger, holding his baretta up in surrender.

Sam nearly choked on a sob, feeling the cold metal dig into the sensitive skin of his neck. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to gather himself, then they fluttered open again. Something Dean couldn't name flaring up in his mate's hazel-green circles.

„Down.", Deryl demanded. „On your knees … ALL of you."

The pack obeyed and let go of their weapons, throwing them towards the alpha, before they sank to their knees in surrender.

Sam's lips quivered and he shook his head. _No … this couldn't be happening._

Deryl cocked an eyebrow and moved the gun's barrel towards Dean, aiming at his chest. „Guess I've to change my plans for the two of you, huh?" He looked from one wolf to another. „I'll take 'lil Sammy with me.", he smiled sweetly, „As an exchange …"

„You won't.", Dean hissed, „There's no way out. - You'll be dead either way."

Deryl chuckled and shook his head. „So will _you_ ..."

Sam heard his captor cocking the weapon. He glanced at Deryl's finger on the trigger, saw him tightening his hold.

Sam caught Dean's gaze again for a split second, mouthing an „ _I love you_ ", before he lunged for the man's weapon at the end of the outstretched arm.

Then things happened too fast – within just a single few seconds. Even too fast for werewolves senses …A shot rang out, as Sam held Deryl's arm and hand in a death-grip, tugging the arm and the gun down.

Surprised by his captives reaction he was caught in a moment of carelessness and Sam landed a pretty good hit with his elbow into the wolf's face.

Meanwhile Dean grabbed his gun from the dirty ground and tried to aim. But the two of them were too stricken into each other and Sam was in his line of fire _all the damn fucking time_.

Dean shared a look with his father – as long as the shock effect lasted they'd have a chance to get Sam away from the bastard.

They were about to lung for the two of them, as Deryl shoved Sam out of the way, who stumbled for a moment before he caught himself mid-fall. The alpha glanced at Sam triumphantly, the smile of a winner on his lips as something challenging flashed through his deep blue circles.

Instantly Sam knew what would happen, what'd come next. And he couldn't. He just couldn't let it happen … no way in heaven or hell … And before he even realized what he was doing, he took off at the very second he heard it …

The alpha cocked his gun aimed at the youngest Winchester and pulled the trigger within the very next moment. So did Dean. Cold blue eyes sparkling like crystals as Dean's eyes widened.

And before Dean knew what had hit him, he felt a heavy weight slamming into him, _something_ wrapping around his torso in a death-grip and then he stumbled and fell backwards. Landing hard on his back, bumping his head and for a moment he wasn't able to breath. The impact, the weight upon his body had forced all oxygen out of his lungs and left him gasping for air. Making black dots dance before his eyes.

Moments that seemed like eternity passed, until he was able to suck in a wheezing breath, and then another one. But the weight on him wouldn't go away, the grip of whatever was holding onto him wouldn't disappear.

The first thing he heard were the yells and screams, someone calling for _help_ , for the _ambulance,_ for the antidote.

„Sam.", he croaked out, sucking in another breath – a deeper one this time. And it hurt. There might were a couple of cracked ribs, but sure as hell no bullet-wound. „ _Sammy_."

Dean's grip around his gun eased and it slipped from his hand as he reached with his free one for whatever covered his body that made it hard to breath. His fingers touched soft fabric. But not the one of his own shirt … he'd feel it, wouldn't he?

His other hand found its way to something soft – like fur … like HAIR.

The Winchester tilted his head to the side, trying to steal a look at whatever had hit him. A dark mess of hair appeared in his peripheral vision and he gasped – all of a sudden breathless again.

Sam's head was resting in the curve of his neck. His mate's body covering him, holding him _protectively_.

Shielding him.

And that was when he felt the warm dampness and stickiness on the back of Sam's shirt against his palm. When he smelled the copper taste of blood in the air …

When he rose his limb to have a look at his in scarlet painted hand …

… _... to be continued_

* * *

  
  


** Of Werewolves And Humans **

** Chapter 26 ~ It'll Never Be Enough **

THEN:

_The Winchester tilted his head to the side, trying to steal a look at whatever had hit him. A dark_ _mess of hair appeared in his peripheral vision and he gasped – all of a sudden breathless again._

_Sam's head was resting in the curve of his neck. His mate's body covering him, holding him protectively._

_Shielding him._

_And that was when he felt the warm dampness and stickiness on the back of Sam's shirt against his palm. When he smelled the copper taste of blood in the air …_

_When he rose his limb to have a look at his in scarlet painted hand …_

* * *

NOW:

„SAM!", Dean yelled, tugging frantically on the fabric of his mate's shirt. „Sammy. - Talk to me, baby ..." He panted, pushing his flat palm onto the wound.

He felt the sticky fluid welling through his fingers, the labored rise and fall of Sam's chest, tender short puffs of air against the bare skin on his neck. Panic dug its relentless claws into Dean when he wouldn't get an answer. When Sam wouldn't even stir …

„Sam – c'mon … SAM.", he muttered more urgent, trying to free himself from Sam's long arms, in the need to _see_ his mate. „Don't you dare." The wolfman's lips quivered, his eyes teared up.

A soft gasp fell from his mate's lips and he felt the fingers beneath him twitch.

„HELP!", Dean yelled panicked. Because only now his sensed started to flood back into him, started to work more sober. And his senses told him, that he couldn't fix this, that they needed the ambulance, needed a doctor … „Damn it! I need some help here!"

Then Dean stilled, stopped to try to get Sam off of him. He wasn't supposed to move him. The bullet could possibly travel and only god knew where in his body the damn thing had stopped to bounce off his bones. The wound seemed damn close to Sam's heart and lungs … it could travel … it could've penetrated something vital.

„ _D'n._ ", came a silent plea and Sam shifted his legs, made an attempt to free his arms from underneath Dean. But it was no help – he felt too weak and his own weight and Dean's were too much.

„Don't.", Dean panted, laying his other hand flat on the small of his mate's back. „Don't move, baby. - Don't move. I got ya'."

„ _Sorry_ …", Sam blew out a short raspy breath. „'m so sorry."

A choked sound wrenched from Dean's throat as he blinked his tears away. „It's okay, Sammy. - It's going to be okay. A little patch-up and you're as good as new. - You just gotta hold on, okay? … Hold on ..."

* * *

Dean Winchester was pacing back and forth in the waiting area. Besides him, sheriff Mills and his pack was no one there. His clothes were full of dried crimson red and dirt – his heart hammering against his ribcage ever since they got there …

They had brought Sam into surgery a couple of hours ago … they had said it was touch and go, when they pulled the stretcher with his mate out of the ambulance. They had said something about rattling wet noises in his left lung before his heart went out on their way to hospital.

That he was bleeding into his lungs high likely. That there could be air gathering somewhere and that'd suppress his breathing. - And soon they had their proof as Sam had started to cough up saliva mixed with scarlet. As his heart became weaker and weaker with every passing moment …

All the way to the hospital, Dean rode in the back of the ambulance, crouched down in a corner where he wouldn't be in the way. All the way to the hospital there were these gurgling and wheezing noises when Sam tried to take a breath.

 _He was drowning on his own blood_ … they had said.

The only thing Dean was able to think off was that Sam didn't deserve this. That all of this was his fault, that he should've never left him at the Salvage, that they should've never had gone for the other pack in the first place. Sam wasn't supposed to die, Dean wasn't supposed to lose him.

They were supposed to build a cabin where they'd live a long life. Sam was supposed to go to school and learn something.

The ECG and all the other machines were peeping either too fast or too slow … but the worst had been as one of the monitors started to make these erratic sounds and then a long-drawn beep … just this and the _flatline_ on the monitor.

He FELT his mate slipping away from him … Dean's heart skipped a few beats as one of the paramedics yelled something about _hurry_ and _cardiac_ _arrest_ and _tell them we're coming in_.

Sam, who lay limply on the stretcher, his head lolled to the side, his eyes closed … and no sounds that he even tried to breath came anymore.

That was about two minutes before they pulled up in front of the hospitals. Two minutes in whom there were no signs of life in the human's body anymore. Two long minutes in whom he had been dead – just to come back when they intubated him and started the CPR right in the lobby in front of everyone's eyes.

And Dean just stood there … Tears running down his face, his hands shaking violently, his knees buckling. Dean had FELT that Sam was gone, that he had been DEAD. It felt like a pitch-black hole eating the younger Winchester up from the inside as the sudden lack of the presence of his mate got perceptible.

Moments later _… Sam was gone._ Got taken from him and vanished behind a double door he wasn't allowed to pass. The nurse had said something about that he h _ad to wait outside_. That he'd be brought into surgery. That he was in good hands.

That Dean should calm down and take a seat, since he looked like passing out any moment. His face was pale, a thin layer of sweat covered his skin.

This couldn't be true … this couldn't be happening. He couldn't lose Sam.

Dean rubbed over his face, fresh tears gleaming in his red-rimmed eyes. Unnoticed by him his father rose, giving Bobby and Ellen a look, and left.

Half an hour later he was back with Dean's duffel-bag slung over his shoulder. He laid his hand on his son's shoulder, squeezing it gently.

„Dean.", he said calmly. „You can't wait like this … - You've to get cleaned up and put on some fresh clothes, son."

Dean glanced over his shoulder and shook his head. „I can't …" He sniffed. „I can't leave Sam alone …"

John cast his look down on the floor and sighed. „You won't. - It's just for half an hour. When he's out of surgery and they get him into a room … _Dean_. - You can't go in there like this. Besides … you reek. - Even for humans you reek."

Dean blinked a couple of times and pulled in a deep breath through his nose. And yeah … he stunk. Then he looked down on himself, recognizing all the blood and dirt for the first time.

He then nodded and sniffed again. His father was right. When Sam'd wake up, he shouldn't reek like THAT.

„Fine. - I got your duffel.", he said, thrusting it into Dean's hand and a key into the other one. „The keys to the lockers. There are showers too …"

Dean sucked in his lower lip as he met his father's gaze and bit down on it. „Thanks.", he choked out sniffing.

„Now go.", John said with a sad smile, „I'll go and get you when he's coming out in the meantime."

* * *

Dean let the hot water soak into his skin, washing the coldness away that had taken over him ever since he had realized, that it had been Sam. Sam who had taken him down. Sam who had gotten in the way of the bullet. Sam who had saved his life.

He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, letting the water wash over his face.

His last memory of Sam … so much fear in those amazingly pure hazel-eyes. _Pain_. Oh god … so much pain and panic from the moment on he had opened his eyes.

They hadn't dared to move him, hadn't dared to take him off of Dean until the paramedics arrived. There had been so much blood – so much of Sam's blood.

Sam muttered incoherent things into the wolfman's neck, things he didn't quite understand. Not right then at least. He felt his mate's skin become clammy, his breathing labored and then the wheezing noises started whenever he sucked in a breath.

He could tell that it was getting harder for him to stay awake, no matter how much Dean tried to keep him conscious. Sam had slipped through his fingers – _just like that._

The younger Winchester swallowed around the lump in his throat and closed his eyes. Remembering Ellen above them, how she applied pressure with her hands onto Sam's oozing wound. How she was talking to Dean, trying to reassure him that it'd be fine, that the ambulance would be there in no time.

He turned the water off and held his eyes closed for a few more seconds, before he wiped over his face and opened his eyes again to face the present day and forget about the last ones …

* * *

Half an hour after Dean had returned to the waiting area, a doctor emerged in blue scrubs and white gloves from the double door behind whom Sam had disappeared hours ago.

The man looked tired and exhausted. What might have been the reason why he hadn't recognized the blood on his shoes … all over his shoes. _Sam's blood all over his shoes …_

Though he instantly caught Dean's gaze and wouldn't let go. Even over the distance the doctor seemed to at least to try to look reassuring.

Dean froze in his place, staring at the man, until he stood before him. That was also when the doctor's gaze dropped for a moment.

„Mister Winchester?", he asked with a frown as he looked up again.

Dean nodded, unable to say something.

„Sam is out of surgery and on the ICU for the next 72 hours.", The doctor informed him. „I don't want to lie to you … It's touch and go. - The bullet hardly missed his heart, punctured his left lung … For his time on the ICU we'll keep him on a ventilator …" He cleared his throat. „About the rest of your friend's injuries ..." He trailed off, noticing the Winchester's state just now. „… It was quite a night for all of us and … I think it'd be better when I fill you in on the rest tomorrow?" The doctor swallowed hard, well knowing about the mental stress relatives were in that kind of situations. He also knew that anything he'd tell the young man now would be lost on him anyway. So he let it go and would offer an appointment to him for the next day, when he'd be more confident that what he had to tell the man would be noticed.

Completely cool with Dean. The only thing he wanted right now was to see Sam, to be with his mate. „Yeah. - Guess that'd be okay. - Can I see him now?"

The doctor smiled sadly and gave him a short nod. „I'll call our head nurse to bring you to Samuel's room."

Dean looked back over his shoulder towards his pack and the sheriff, giving them a small smile.

 _Sam was alive_ … he made it through the surgery. He'd pick up from here and he'd improve … He'd take him back home with him in no-time.

* * *

Like promised the head nurse showed up just minutes later and led Dean Winchester onto the second floor with the ICU-Unit. She led him down a long corridor and then – finally – they stopped and she pointed at an open door.

The light in the room was dim, the blinds were down, a small light was on above the bed's headboard.

The bed itself seemed so much bigger than the figure that laid on it.

Sam was so pale – almost as white as the sheets that covered him.

Machines were placed all around him, the rhythmic whoosh of the ventilator and the beeping noises of the monitors showed how serious Sam had been hurt. How much of touch and go it was …

„Fifteen minutes.", the nurse whispered before she left Dean standing in the doorway on his own.

The younger Winchester eyed his mate. Took in the tubes and cables that went from Sam's body towards the machines around the bed.

Dean tried so bad not to cry again. - He tried. But he failed.

He ever so carefully narrowed, until he stood beside Sam, laying his hand over Sam's wich rested on the covers.

The human felt so cold. _So cold._

Dean just stared at him for a long time, holding his hand gently, squeezing it softly. „I can't stay long, Sammy.", he whispered. „You're on the ICU, you know? You did quite a job over at the farm. _Saving me_ – my ass, Sam. You could be dead, you know that? You could still be dying …" He swallowed down a sob and sniffed. „You gotta get better, you hear me? I want to take you back home in a week or two. I want you to stay with me in bed for a whole week, you hear me? I promised you that …"

Dean stared at his mate, waiting. He knew Sam was down under, that it wasn't possible for him to even hear his words. And though … somehow Sam seemed as he was just sleeping … if it wouldn't have been for the circumstances.

„It's time.", came silent voice from behind him.

Dean nodded without looking back and bowed over his mate, placing a gentle kiss on his clammy forehead. „Don't leave me, Sammy.", he whispered into his ear, closing his eyes, „You're my soul, Tiger." A single tear fell from his left eye.

* * *

The next morning dawned and Dean was in the hospital at the nurse's station and waited for them to give him the okay to visit Sam. He then sat beside the bed, watching over Sam, holding his hand, talking to him. Telling him how much he needed him, that he couldn't go like this … He talked until his voice was hoarse and his throat sore.

They let him stay with him until the late noon, when doctor Summers came for him. The doctor who had talked to him after Sam's surgery the afternoon before. Doctor Summers filled Dean in, in Sam's injuries … not just the obvious ones.

He told him about the concussion, the bruised cheekbone and cracked yaw. The rectal lacerations …

Dean didn't ask, because he knew it. Had seen it …

Seventy-four hours later, Sam got extubated and moved into a regular room. Though there was still the ECG and an oxygen-mask over his mouth and nose. And he haven't had woken up yet.

Sam remained unconscious. The doctors had explained, that it'd probably take a while until he'd wake up. That his body needed time – so would his mind.

Though, the more time passed, the more Dean lost his hope. He KNEW Sam was in there … he was able to feel him. - He just wouldn't open his eyes.

Ellen had said that sometimes people just wouldn't wake up after a trauma like this … she told him that he might had to be prepared for the worst.

But Dean didn't believe that. He KNEW Sam'd wake up. He wouldn't leave him alone. And if Sam decided to really leave … then he'd follow.

 _So yes._ Sam would wake up … he just had to … and if he wouldn't, he'd take him home, he'd get him help and the care that he'd need if he wouldn't regain consciousness ever again.

* * *

Dean carried a coffee in one hand and a paper-bag in the other one as he entered Sam's room. He placed the things on the nightstand and gave a small smile as he glanced at the monitors and back down at Sam. The Winchester placed a gentle kiss on Sam's forehead and whispered a soft good morning into his ear, before he sat down beside him.

Sam looked way better now. He wasn't pale anymore, his breaths seemed to be stronger. Even his heart rate and blood-pressure were stable and somewhere along the standards.

Other than that he still remained asleep – dead to the world.

* * *

Dean had fallen asleep in his chair. His body hunched over, resting on the bed beside Sam, his arm and hand buried under the wolfman's chest, Dean's head resting on top of them.

Then – ever so slowly – he blinked his eyes open. A faint movement beneath his hand and another one. Like shifting fingers brushing over his cheek.

„Hey there.", a raspy voice broke the silence.

Dean's head shot up and he stared wide-awake at Sam's face.

A gentle smile tugged on the corners of the younger man's lips, his eyes on half-mast and his eyes still dull with a sparkle of life in them.

„Sammy.", Dean choked out, not sure if he was going to laugh or cry, or both. „ _Oh god ..._ " He jumped up from the chair and laid his hands on the younger man's cheeks – ever so gently. He cradled his face in his hands, brushing with his thump over the human's dry lips. Ever so softly he drew a small circle short beneath Sam's right cheek-bone with his thump. So soft and gentle as if he was going to break if he'd use more force.

Unshed tears of happiness shone in the wolfman's eyes. „How long … _how long_?", Dean asked huskily.

Sam swallowed and closed his eyes for a moment, taking an inhale before he spoke. „Some time … didn't want to wake you ..." his last words were barely a whisper. „You looked exhaust'd."

Dean bowed further down, peppering feather light kisses all over Sam's face – just the one on his lips lingered longer.

„You thirsty?", Dean asked eagerly, trying to hold eye contact with Sam.

A short smile ghosted over Sam's face, then his eyes closed again.

Dean frowned, his smile fading slowly. A wary glance at the monitors followed. But they seemed okay … Sam seemed to be okay. The wolfman placed another tender kiss over Sam's lips.

„Love you, Sammy.", Dean whispered and sat back down into his chair, holding onto the human's right hand gingerly and pushed the call-button to inform the nurses that Sam had woken up.

* * *

It lasted almost eighteen hours until Sam's eyes opened again.

Dean sat beside him, sipping on the coffee he held in one hand and Sam's hand in the other. The moment he noticed Sam's awakening, he put the coffee aside and hovered over the the bed again, squeezing his hand gently.

„Hey there." Dean flashed him one of his most adorable smiles.

His mate didn't answer, he just smiled as he blinked his eyes open. Sam's lips moved, as he was trying to say something, but no sound came out – just a raspy noise somewhere from his throat.

„It's okay.", he said sweetly, „Don't talk."

Sam squeezed Dean's hand weakly and blinked his eyes open wider.

„You need something?", he asked.

Sam squeezed again, mouthing yes.

„Water?", Dean asked and Sam gave him a short nod.

„I'll be back in less than a minute, Sammy.", Dean said eagerly and with that he was gone, just to return in LESS than a minute again.

He held a paper-cup in his hands and a small spoon, sitting down on the edge of the bed beside Sam's hip. „The nurse said it's ice-chips for ya'."

Sam nodded.

Dean loaded one of the slippery bastards onto the plastic spoon and guided it towards Sam's lips. His mate opened up and let the cold chip slip onto his tongue.

The human closed his eyes and leaned his head back on the pillow as he sucked on the small frozen piece of water.

„Another one?", Dean asked as Sam opened his eyes again. And his mate nodded.

Sam tried to sit more upright this time, but squeezed his eyes shut at the same moment, letting out a pained whine.

„Woah, - slowly, sweetheart." Dean shoved another load on the spoon. „Just let me do this, okay? - You just gotta say when it's enough ..."

Sam gave him a short nod and blew out a shuddering breath.

When they were done with half the cup, Dean called for the nurse and told her that Sam'd need more pain-meds, but Sam shook his head.

„No ...", he croaked out, „Wanna be awake ..."

Dean frowned at him. „It's okay. - I'll be here when you wake up. You need to rest, but right now you can't because you're in pain.", he cocked both eyebrows.

Sam shook his head. „No … please … don't let me go back there ..."

For a moment Dean didn't understand. But then it dawned to him … „Nightmares?"

Sam nodded exhausted.

Dean and the nurse shared a wary glance. „Tell you what, Sammy." Dean rose from the chair and eyed the space to Sam's left and right from the bed. „We're getting the bed-rails up on your left side, you're scooting over and i'll lay with you, okay?" He smiled, glancing at the nurse who looked slightly stricken.

A faint smile ghosted over Sam's features, giving another nod.

„I don't know sir ….", the nurse bit her lower lip. „... if that's a good idea with his injury ..."

Dean frowned at her. „Please?", he mouthed, his eyes pleading.

Then she flashed him a smile and nodded. „I think I got something that'd make it quite comfortable for Mister Campbell."

Dean gave her a grateful look.

* * *

Half an hour later, Sam was settled on his right side, his arms wrapped around a long pillow that looked like an oversized sausage, so that he couldn't topple forward in his position. Dean stripped off his shoes and socks and crawled onto the bed, settling in behind Sam. He then pulled one of the blankets up, taking care that Sam's arm with the I.V. port was above it, and then he wrapped his arm around Sam's middle.

The nurse smiled satisfied with herself as she moved towards the bed with a syringe in her hands.

„Ready?", she asked and shared a look with Dean, since Sam wouldn't look her in the eyes.

Actually he didn't look at anyone of the staff, not even the doctors. He didn't even talk to them.

Dean gave her a short nod and nuzzled into Sam's neck, making himself comfortable.

She then plugged the syringe into Sam's port and emptied it slowly, giving Dean a short nod.

„That's it, Sammy.", Dean whispered gently, „I'm here. - Just let go, sweetheart."

Minutes later Sam drifted off to sleep with a smile on his lips.

… _.. to be continued_

* * *

  
  


* * *

** Of Werewolves And Humans **

** Chapter 27 ~ And So It Ends **

THEN:

_The nurse smiled satisfied with herself as she moved towards the bed with a syringe in her hands._

„ _Ready?", she asked and shared a look with Dean, since Sam wouldn't look her in the eyes._

_Actually he didn't look at anyone of the staff, not even the doctors. He didn't even talk to them._

_Dean gave her a short nod and nuzzled into Sam's neck, making himself comfortable._

_She then plugged the syringe into Sam's port and emptied it slowly, giving Dean a short nod._

„ _That's it, Sammy.", Dean whispered gently, „I'm here. - Just let go, sweetheart."_

_Minutes later Sam drifted off to sleep with a smile on his lips._

* * *

NOW:

Dean awoke to an agonized cry.

His eyes snapped open, his grip around Sam's middle tightened in an instant.

„Sammy.", Dean muttered hoarsely, „Sam, it's okay."

The human threw his head back into Dean's shoulder, gasping for air, fighting whatever he was fighting in his dreams. Sam's whole body was shaking with tremors, his muscles taut.

„Baby.", Dean whispered, moving his hand over Sam's chest. „Shshsh. - Wake up." he should have known that the peace wouldn't last. „Wake up, Sam. - It's just a bad dream."

In the very next moment, two nurses burst into the room, followed by a high alarmed John Winchester. The older Winchester scanned the room for any sign of threat, so did a rumpled Robert Singer just a second behind.

Dean brushed gently over Sam's cheek with his open palm, trying to bring him back from wherever he was right now. He whispered – ever so gently – into his mate's ear. But Sam wouldn't wake up. There was another sharp cry ripping from his throat, as he fought against Dean's hold.

„Don't, Sam. - You're gonna rip your stitches.", Dean whispered gently, tried to stay calm, holding Sam tight against his body.

„He's gonna hurt himself.", one of the nurses blurted out, „twentyfive diazepam – Rose! Like yesterday, damnit!"

„Sam. - Please ..." Dean whispered pleadingly, holding him tight so he wasn't able to hurt himself, shoving his other arm under Sam's ribcage and held him close. _\- So close._ He then moved his upper arm up and stroke – ever so gently – over Sam's face again, murmuring gentle words of love into his ear.

Eventually Sam stopped to struggle, as the nurse came back with a syringe in her hand. Sam panted heavily, pain searing through his left chest and ribcage, as he started to free himself from his nightmares. It felt like he couldn't breathe properly. Pain lancing through his body relentlessly as he gasped.

The finally – what seemed like an aeon later – Sam started to FEEL. Started to feel that his mate was close. He remembered that they had fallen asleep together, that Dean had been with him.

„D'n?" Sam reached for the hand that was resting on his chest. „Dean ...", he sobbed confused, „where … what ..."

„Shshsh … it's okay. - You're okay.", he whispered into his ear, „We're in the hospital, you remember?" Dean folded his fingers in between Sam's to anchor him. He placed a feather-light kiss on Sam's sweaty skin where his neck met his shoulder, tasting salty fear on his lips.

That was about the moment when the nurse appeared in Sam's peripheral vision, on the side of the bed, holding up the syringe.

„No!", Sam yelled desperately and started to struggle all over again, his long arms flying into the air and knocking the syringe from the nurse's hands. „NOOO!"

Dean caught Sam by his wrists, and straddled his long legs with his. He then managed to pull Sam's hands back against his ribcage, holding him perfectly still, until his mate's struggling subsided.

„ _Please … please – don't do this_.", Sam choked out sobbing.

„It's okay.", Dean looked at the baffled nurse, who at pulled back a yard from the bed. „Go – I got this ..."

„He's gonna rip his internal stitches, Mister Winchester. - I'd suggest we sedate him ...", she said nervously. „It'd be safer that way ..."

Dean glared at her – but he understood what she meant. Even after nearly a week the damage in Sam's body wasn't even half healed … „I got this, trust me.", he told her, before he focused back on Sam, who lay desperately sobbing in his arms, mumbling incoherent things.

„It's okay, baby … They're just worried about you.", he whispered, slightly breathless, „So am I. - Sam. _Sammy_ ..." He rested his forehead on Sam's shoulder and closed his eyes, calming himself down. „I'm gonna let you go now, okay?"

Sam nodded frantically.

„You won't fight me, okay?", Dean asked. „Or the nurse …"

Sam nodded again, the tension in his body fading slowly.

Dean eased his grip on him, but let his hands rest on Sam's chest. Sam's hands found his and clutched to the wolfman's ones, trembling violently.

The Winchester held his mate tight. _\- So tight._ „That's my boy.", he praised him gently, „You're doing great. - Just let go. I got you, Sammy. I got you ..." Dean buried his nose in Sam's silken hair. „Deryl's dead. - There's nothing you have to be afraid of anymore ..."

„Make it stop, Dean. - Please … just make it stop ...", his mate pleaded hoarsely in between hiccups and sobs. „Please … please … It hurts, Dean. It hurts … make it stop, please ..."

The younger Winchester hushed his mate, laying his flat palm over Sam's heart. „Breathe with me, Sammy. - Just breathe with me.", he whispered. „I'll make it stop, okay?"

He nodded again.

„But first … first you've to slow it down.", he whispered.

Sam nodded again.

„Okay. - In and out. - Just like me ...", he took a deep inhale, making sure that Sam'd feel his chest's rise. „... and out, baby." Dean blew out a long slow breath and tightened his hold on his mate, so his ribcage was flush against Sam's back. „See? … In … and … out." He closed his eyes and concentrated on Sam, feeling after several repetitions as his breathes fell in union with Dean's.

„You're doing great, Sammy. - So great.", He whispered – loud enough so just Sam would hear it. „I'm so proud of you. - So proud."

Dean opened his eyes again and locked his gaze with the nurse, that stood behind his father. „Are you hurtin'?", he asked after a long while of silence.

Sam nodded exhausted and drew in another long breath with his mate.

„You could have some pain-killers.", he suggested, brushing a damp bang out of Sam's face.

„You stay with me?", Sam asked after a short pause. „Please?"

A small smile formed on the younger Winchester's face. „There's nowhere where I'd be rather."

„Okay ...", Sam breathed out raspy. „... only if you stay ..."

„Close your eyes for me, Sam.", he whispered gently and Sam did as he was told.

When the human's eyelids had fluttered closed he mouthed pain-killers towards the nurse and got a short nod as reply.

„That's good, Sammy.", the wolfman whispered low, „I'll watch out for you, while you're sleeping, okay?"

Sam gave him a short nod. „Please … don't go."

„I won't. - I promise.", the older Winchester whispered as he watched the nurse plugging in a syringe into the I.V. port in Sam's arm. When Sam made an attempt to flinch away from the gently touch of the woman's cool fingers, Dean tugged him closer. „Trust me, Sammy. - Close your eyes and let the nice girl do her work. It're just painkillers."

Eventually Sam drifted off to sleep again short after under the watch of Dean, John and the two nurses.

Dean gave them a short nod, making his point clear that he got this. That they didn't need anyone else.

John stayed in the room, slumped down in the chair that stood beside the bed and watched over his son and Sam until the early morning hours.

* * *

 _Five days later,_ Dean decided to get Sam home with him. All the foreign faces of the nurses and doctors who came into his room made the human jumpy and withdrawing into himself. All he seemed to want was to hide from them under his covers.

And Dean understood. - Sam hadn't been among other people – like this, like in a hospital or anywhere else – for years. And when he have had contact with others it hadn't been in a good kind of way.

Though … Sam always blossomed when John or Bobby or one of the others came by to visit. It was like he was another person again. He talked and joked with them – so he did with Dean of course. Though it was different. Like he'd mess around with _friends_ and not with his mate …

But then again … when one of the staff entered the room, Sam grew extraordinary silent in an instant and Dean knew it couldn't go on that way.

Apart from the fact that Sam's nightmares seemed to get worse with every day that passed … and the doctors started to press for the use of sedatives. Something Dean knew that Sam didn't want. The human hated to feel loopy and distressed, he hated to feel the world around him slipping away. Because that was how he imagined it'd feel …

* * *

_one week later …_

… Sam visited Caleb's „grave" in the woods with Dean's help and digged out a small pit, where he buried the wolf's „diary". He stayed there for a long time, leaning against his mate until his chest started to hurt as hell and forced him to walk back to the Salvage to lay down again.

When they were back at the Salvage, Sam's powers were wasted and he was unable to get up the three steps onto the porch. So Dean scooped him up on his arms and carried him upstairs into their room. The wolfman covered the drained, shivering man with the comforter and a blanket and slipped under it behind him, holding him tight.

* * *

_three weeks later …_

Sam awoke to the smell of waffles, scrambled eggs, bacon and coffee, and to soft lips covering his. Sam parted his lips slightly, his eyes still closed, moaning comfortably into the kiss. He felt a gentle hand cupping his cheek and he leaned into the touch, letting his lips being caressed fondly.

Dean smiled into it, leaning closer, bringing himself above his mate, as he felt tentatively hands ghosting along his flanks.

„Breakfast's here, baby.", Dean mumbled into Sam's mouth.

Sam bucked his hips up against Deans, pushing a low rumble from the wolfman's throat. „Figured."

The Winchester chuckled.

„We've got the whole week, Sam.", he said and placed another soft kiss over Sam's tender cushions. „And I intend to hold the promises I made ..."

The human groaned and blinked his eyes open as they fell apart. „What's gonna happen after this week?"

Dean settled beside Sam and watched him carefully as his human scooted back and leaned against the headboard with a silent hiss. His chest still hurt, even when it already had healed up – at least on the outside.

Dean frowned instantly, a flash of worry ghosting over his features. „It shouldn't hurt anymore ...", he stated with a deep frown.

Sam gave him a shy smile. „Maybe I'm just oversensitive to pain.", he said jokingly. „I'm okay, Dean." He nudged his mate into the side and gave him a wink. „You don't have to worry … it just stings from time to time."

His mate nodded, still not completely convinced. „We could wait though, you know? - I don't want you to be hurtin'."

„No. - Stop that. - I don't want to hear just a single thought of yours about that anymore." Sam's expression went serious under three seconds.

„Well, i can't control my feelings, sweetheart." Dean watched the human ever so closely.

„Well then. - Breakfast?" Sam cocked an eyebrow at his mate.

Dean smiled at him. „Breakfast."

Dean knew it'd take time. Time to heal. Time to adjust.

When this week would be over, he'd tell Sam about his plans. About a cabin in the woods or a small house behind Bobby's on the Salvage. He'd tell him about his ideas about getting Sam professional help, so he'd be able to go out and see or meet other people. So that Sam would be able to go back to school …

… but that had time.

For now they were all they needed.

_~ The End ~_

* * *

_THANKS TO ALL MY FOLLOWERS!_

_THANKS TO ALL THE ONES WHO FAVORITED THIS STORY!_

**SPECIAL THANKS TO MY REVIEWERS:**


End file.
